


My kind of magic

by Afanwithglasses



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, M/M, Quidditch, Violence, dorks using magic, mentioned Homophobia, set in Japan, slight angst, wizarding school AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-08-07 13:22:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7716343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Afanwithglasses/pseuds/Afanwithglasses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re going to be transferring to Mahoutokoro, aren’t you excited?!”<br/>Mahoutokoro… the Mahoutokoro!? That’s not nearby at all! It’s several hours away even when using the sea-train! <br/>“W-when?” <br/>“Didn’t I tell you? In a week!” his mom claps her hands together, and giggles. “You need to start packing your things!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It must be fate

**Author's Note:**

> this is my contribution to baktweek, and a fic I've been wanting to write for a long time!

Bokuto Kotarou; sophomore, and the top 5’th chaser in Japan’s quidditch league this year. A player who is more than willing to show off his brute force, energy, willpower and ferociousness. He’s blunt, dangerous, stronger than even a hippogriff and a dragon combined when he’s at his best, and he’s undoubtedly the ace of the team even at his age. His laugh and emotion can cheer up anyone, even when in a pinch. The thought of falling from high places and onto the ground, breaking his legs and arms several times, has never scared him at all.

Akaashi keiji; 5’th year student, and seeker. His sharp cold eyes, cool aura, and natural vigilance is what makes him scary. He’s the rationality and cruelty of their team, and an unmistaken diamond pillar that never crumbles under pressure when the team needs to be held up. He’s a force to be reckoned with, the way he ends their matches precisely when they need it. Additionally, at the age of 16, he has completely mastered the art of riding a firebolt broomstick; the fastest broomstick in the world.

And last, but certainly just as impressive as the other two; Kuroo Tetsuro. Team captain even as a sophomore, and the best keeper the team has had in 35 years. He’s collected, sharp, playful, and scheming. His reflexes are almost animalistic, the way his arms and feet move to block the quaffle and send it straight out into the field again, even before people have managed to finish their gasps of anticipation. He can make an entire stadium, and their opposing team, break into silence as he dives in for a perfect, powerful, breathtaking block.

They have a lot of things in common, those three. One of them is being on the same team, and another thing is them being on one of the rare mixed house teams in the world. Tsukishima has studied them for long, and feels like he knows their features by heart. It’s, to his dismay, no secret that he looks up to them, as far as a boy from another school can look up to another school’s quidditch team. Oh, how much he wanted to be on a team like theirs.

He’s been watching their every match since the time Kuroo and Bokuto first debuted with a crushing victory over Nohebi, a team Tsukishima himself detested due to various reasons. After that, the mixed team had scrambled their way to the top, but suffered gravely in the quarterfinals. They lost, partly due to a lack of a good seeker, but the way they almost managed to get to the semifinals had Tsukishima hooked. Then, last year, Akaashi had debuted, and they got to the semifinals. Akaashi had been just the seeker they needed, and he was good. Very good. However, not good enough to bring their team to the finals. Tsukishima had never felt such a tightness in his chest when they came short of just ten points, and lost.

Though, this year, right now, they are playing for the win, and Tsukishima is there to watch, as always.

Tsukishima looks at the team, eyes wide as he follows Akaashi’s distant form and sharp turns with his eyes; his heart leaping when he sees Bokuto’s reckless play to keep another chaser from scoring, and his chest swelling with excitement when Kuroo once again saves the quaffle from a difficult angle, keeping the other team from getting the 10 points they so sorely need to win.

As excited as he is, he closes his eyes to cherish the moment, just like those standing next to him. He has no time to think about other things than this match. This is the time to live in the moment.

The crowd. He can hear their shouts, their cheers. He can sense their auras, their heart and will to win. They all want the win. The win of the year- the one that will finally give them the right to go to the finals. The tribunes are shaking from feet stomping in rhythm of the team’s victory song, and the air is thick from the rising heat.

Although, as numb as he is from all the emotion around him, Tsukishima can feel something coming. It’s weird, but he just feels it whenever something dangerous is about to happen. He takes his own intuition’s warning to heart, but time slows down as his eyelids open.

In a split second, just as his eyes adjust to take in every detail of the game, his gaze falls on the lightning that can be otherwise referred to as Akaashi, flying merely a meter away from him. It’s startling, how fast he can go from one place to another, yet… The way his pine green cloak sways slowly in the moment, the way his eyes seem to be glowing with raw determination- it feels nothing but exhilarating. His intuition’s warning about danger- maybe it wasn’t about danger at all, but something that told him to open his eyes to witness and behold something that could most certainly pass as a once in a life time experience.

He feels the breeze of a tiny object fly straight past his nose. The color of gold warms him. Although the flash is only there for a mere tenth of a second, the golden snitch appears so clearly to him. It’s wings, swaying in slow motions, and its engraved pattern, reflecting hundreds of stadium lights at once.

And it’s barely five millimeters away from touching Akaashi’s palm.

And it all happens in the blink of an eye.

The gust of wind Akaashi leaves behind him is stronger than that of a storm, and it sends some of the standing spectators falling backwards in alarm. Tsukishima, however, is frozen still mid-gasp. His hair rustling, and falling back to place as the gust fades.

The stadium roars as Akaashi times his capture of the golden snitch perfectly, ending the game with an overwhelming and brutal victory over the other team.

“Akaashi Keiji closes the game yet again!!!!” the speakers boom and a mixture of green, red, yellow and blue confetti explodes over the stadium. On the big screen’s located around the gigantic stadium, the golden snitch is pictured, still flapping its wings in Akaashi’s closed fist. Then the camera zooms out, and Akaashi’s beautiful face gets visible. He’s glossy eyed, blushing, and Tsukishima is sure he has never seen the boy wearing such a big grin. The next couples of seconds, he is being attacked by Bokuto, who has tears streaming down his face. The black and silver haired chaser is shouting something, maybe not even real words, just a roar of relief and joy. Tsukishima can’t hear them- the speakers are so loud and the crowd is so wild his sense of hearing goes numb.

They hug, still up in the air, and already hundreds of meters away from Tsukishima. He couldn’t have heard anything even if the stadium filled with thousands of fans was silent. they’re finally going to the finals, and they might even win the whole championship- of course the entire stadium would lose their shit.

The confetti canons go off again, and now the camera zooms in on the slowly descending Kuroo, who looks…

How could Tsukishima describe it. He looks… stunning. The only man on the team that Tsukishima has never seen cry, is crying. His grin is shaky, his cheeks are rosy, and he can barely keep himself up when he finally lands on the green patch of grass at the same time as Akaashi and Bokuto. He has to support himself on his broomstick to keep himself from falling to his knees when it hits him that they _won_ and that they’re just _one_ win away from the title they want and seek so desperately.

Just as Kuroo manages to finally stand straight, and looks up at the sky and the magic fireworks that are going off to show _their_ teams logo, he gets tackled by Akaashi and Bokuto, and then when they fall to the ground the rest of the team throw themselves onto the pile too.

It’s just so big. Their way of wining- the cheers that rumble through Tsukishima’s frozen body, and the spirit of the victorious team.

The losers slowly descend, having accepted their fate. Maybe they weren’t fit for the champion title after all.

It’s so big, and it was all decided in less than a second.

Tsukishima realizes he hasn’t been breathing for 30 long seconds, and finally lets his breath out. The air smells of charcoal from the fireworks, and his shoulders are covered in the colored, shimmering dust from the remains of the magical confetti.

All it took was a second…

Without knowing it, his fate had been decided.

 

* * *

 

Tsukishima looks at the neatly handwritten paper in his hand, and then back up at the sign above his head. The sign, an old wooden plank with edges carved in sayagata style, says “welcome to Mahoutokoro”. Besides the sign, is the pole holding it up, and a sakura tree with fully blooming flowers. Around him, the trees are springing into life, all green and lush, reminding him of spring. Although, the air is slightly chilly. It is early, after all.

Tsukishima sighs, putting the paper back in his pants pocket. At least his new black cloak is warm.

He steps onto the tiles, and starts walking the path leading to his new life. His shoulders feel heavy, although he only caries a tiny bag, filled with only his most necessary books and info catalogues. The rest of his belongings, his clothes, shoes, quills, wand and broomstick, are already in his new room. A room he has yet to see, that is.

He ponders, as he walks slowly. His memory of his life changing drastically one week ago still clear as the day.

_“We’re moving.”_

_Tsukishima looks up from his notebook, and clenches his pencil, looking at his mom wide eyed._

_“What?”_

_“Sorry we didn’t tell you sooner, Kei, but we’re going to move to a tiny island, out at the sea.” His mom smiles, rubbing her neck awkwardly where she stands in his doorway._

_“Since the school you go to now only allows students from nearby to attend, you need to change schools too.” She adds, casually. “Well, you’ll be going to the best wizarding school in japan now though, so I guess you’ll be fine, plus you won’t really be staying with us either, but at the school’s dormitory.” She looks so pleased with her explanation, and tilts her head, smiling._

_Tsukishima’s color fades, and he feels a dread growing in his chest. He’s already one week into his 5’th year, and that doesn’t really give him a lot of chances to forge new friendships, that said, if he can actually get close to anyone. Everyone at the new school would have already gotten familiar with each other one week in… those who just stumbled in late were doomed to be lonely. That is, if he assumes that they’ll be moving quite soon. If they moved next year… that could be ok, he figures. Currently, Yamaguchi is his only friend, and it’s been like that since day one. If they aren’t moving until next semester, and it’s relatively close by, then maybe he can manage to stay in touch with him, but if not-_

_“Where…” Tsukishima tries to muster out a full sentence, but he gets lost already at the first word. Somehow, his mom understands though, and bounces happily._

_“You’re going to be transferring to Mahoutokoro, aren’t you excited?!”_

_Mahoutokoro… **the Mahoutokoro**!? That’s not nearby at all! It’s several hours away even when using the sea-train! _

_“W-when?”_

_“Didn’t I tell you? In a week!” his mom claps her hands together, and giggles. “You need to start packing your things!”_

Yep. The memory is still fresh, he thinks.

He sighs again, chest feeling heavy. He’s nervous, he can’t deny that. It had all happened so fast, and now he’s here. _The best wizarding school in japan,_ he reminds himself. It wasn’t unusual for people to drop out if they couldn’t keep up with the high standards of the school. Not that Tsukishima was worried about his studies, he’d made his first polyjuice potion last year, simply out of boredom, and managed to use certain charms without his wand or even using his voice. No, the reason why he’s so nervous is because of _them_.

Tsukishima gulps. This is supposed to be his new school, his new life. This… the place where his _favorite team attends._

Mahoutokoro’s mixed quidditch team, the Toyohashi Tengu’s- short of one victory to become japans greatest Quidditch team, but as strong as ever.

Having arrived the pagoda, Tsukishima can already see their flag at the entrance, waving the symbol of a feathered Tengu slicing a katana through a dark moon. It makes little sense, if he’s to be honest, but the flag looks cool enough. He lets his gaze slide to the school itself, which is a masterpiece when it comes to handcrafted art and architecture.

The pagoda, white and carved from mutton fat jade, towers in front of him. It seems ghostly, almost. It looks like it’s going to fall over him, a good sign that he’s been staring too hard at it, for too long, and he averts his gaze to look at the entrance of the building instead. It’s certainly a fancy entrance, the way the door is decorated. A dragon curls around the squared sayagata patterns surrounding the doorframe, and the door itself has deep carvings of creatures with such detail it could be stared at for hours.

Oh well, fuck it. He opens the door, expecting some kind of teacher to meet him there to show him the way to his room, although he can only see an empty hallway and his own reflection in the polished marble floor. The inside must have been renovated, he notes.

It’s silent, and his shoes clack against the floor and the sound echoes off the walls when he turns to close the door behind him. Trying to be discreet, he closes the door softly, but the click of the door is still awfully loud, and makes some of the decorative vases on the floor clatter. He closes his eyes and winches, hoping he didn’t somehow wake up the dead.  

When no screams of horror or evil spirits appear, he sighs.

After waiting a good couple of minutes, there’s still no one there to meet him. It’s true that it’s early, but he would have expected _some_ activity or life in here, even on a Sunday. Hadn’t his mom told him someone would meet him, or are they expecting him to just simply make himself at home in such a building without getting any tour or any directions at all? It’s a pagoda for Christ’s sake! What if he walks into a secret holy room he’s not supposed to be in?

Feeling his eyebrow twitch slightly in annoyance, he picks up the tiny paper from his pocket. Surely, it only says what time he should be there, and where to go to find the school- something he wouldn’t’ really need directions for considering literally _everyone_ knows the school is placed on top of the island. The only thing he _does_ need directions for, isn’t written.

“Tch.” Packing the paper back into his pocket, he starts walking. He’s there at the right time, 06:00 in the morning, but not a soul to see. Whatever. He’s sure to find _something_ if he walks around a little. A classroom, a dining hall, even just a toilet would be ok, as long as it meant he had some knowledge of where things were.

As far as his luck goes though, he doesn’t find anything.

After circling around the first floor for around twenty minutes, all he finds is a closed off library, and a sofa placed in the middle of nowhere. An ugly sofa too. It’s so red it damages his eyes, however, he places his bag next to it anyways, and looks out at the landscape in front of him through the open window. He must be at the backside of the school, and he’s most likely looking at the grounds where they have their quidditch practice, since he can see the ocean further away in the horizon. Nevertheless, he can’t see anything indicating the part about quidditch. No hoops, no outlined field, and no people.

He groans, and sits down on the ugly sofa in defeat. He bounces up a little once his butt meets with the velvety cushion, and _almost_ falls out with a yelp.

So it’s not just an ugly sofa, it’s got springs from hell too!?

He’s about to hit the sofa pillow in frustration, much to his own embarrassment, when someone _speaks up_.

“So, you’re that new student, right?” a deep voice asks, right next to him.

He can hardly stop himself from jumping up like a startled rabbit when he hears the voice, and he feels his face heat up from the surprise. From the corners of his eyes he can clearly see a tall figure wearing the same black cloak as he is, around his height, standing next to him. He’s too embarrassed to face him though, at the moment. He tries to swallow it down, and closes his eyes shortly before responding stiffly.

“Yes. Tsukishima Kei.”

“Oh, sorry for being late. I’m the one that was supposed to show you around, but…hehe… I overslept,” the person replies lazily, before stretching and _yawning_. Tsukishima feels his eyebrow twitch.

“Also, no need to be so uptight, I’m not a teacher or anything.” The person laughs, swatting his hand at Tsukishima.

Before Tsukishima knows it he’s turning around to look, just to see who this person, who obviously doesn’t care at all, exactly is- but he’s met with a face he didn’t expect to see. His honey colored eyes grow wide with surprise, and the words he was supposed to say fade into nothing.

Standing before him, is one Kuroo Tetsuro, last year, captain, and his idol.

Tsukishima is grateful for a split second, that he’s going to be living in a dormitory, because if his parents found out that he was _this gay_ for a guy he had never talked to until merely two seconds ago, he wouldn’t have survived. He wouldn’t have survived if they found out he was gay in general either, really… but. Ok really there’s no need for him to be thinking about that anyway, the chances of him ever actually getting together with someone, let alone any of his idols, is impossible. He already settled that with himself several months ago, and once again when he was informed that he would be transferring here.

He’s quick to snap back to reality after reminding himself of that once again _now_ , and especially when Kuroo looks puzzled at his expression. Tsukishima isn’t aware of it, but apparently-

“Why are you gaping?” Kuroo asks, lips pursed in a ridiculous pout and eyebrow lifted in amusement.

-He is gaping. He closes his mouth, quickly.

“I’m not.”

“You were,” Kuroo squints, and grins.

The words of denial get stuck in his throat, and Tsukishima closes his lips tightly. He’s already being embarrassing in front of his idol; the guy he didn’t even think he would get a chance to meet unless some miracle happened. He needs to stop. It’s embarrassing to even have someone as an idol in the first place, why is he already making it worse!?

“W-wasn’t” it turns out low, the way his voice stutters.

“Your cloak is turning white; you know,” Kuroo informs, amused.

“What-” Tsukishima starts, but then he remembers. Mahoutokoro’s school cloaks turn white when you lie.  Tsukishima’s face turns white with dread.

Kuroo sniggers, eyeing the slowly growing patches of white on Tsukishima’s cloak, starting from his shoulder and spreading down. To be honest, when the headmaster had told him that _because he was a captain and a responsible student_ and all, he had to show this new 5’th year student around the school first thing on a Saturday morning, the only day he had free from both studies and practice; he had been annoyed. It was just cruel! He’d been so salty and passive aggressive about it all week that in fact, he had showed up late on _purpose_. He had reasoned that the kid that was going to show up was probably some rich snobby ass anyways, and he’d love to make that student’s first day miserable. But this kid…

“Heh, do you want an autograph, since you so obviously just gaped at seeing me?” He teases, letting the words roll of his tongue.

Tsukishima tenses, recognizing the tone of mockery. “No way in hell!” He spurts. Bad idea. He would. Oh fucking god he would love that-

_Shit, shit, shit!_ The white color spreads like a fire in dry grass, and in the blink of an eye his entire cloak is pure and pale as snow, much like his own face- until his cheeks heat up drastically, turning him red as a cherry.

Kuroo can’t help it; his laugh booms through the halls, and echoes off the walls. It’s loud, and full-hearted. While he’s gasping for air, he repeats in his head; _this kid is interesting._ He wasn’t what he’d expected. Usually, people just huffed or acknowledged Kuroo as an equal when he walked around. That’s how it is when you’ve grown up with the same people your entire life. The people attending there wouldn’t be looking at you like some god, however, transferring students… they were the worst, trying to show off in front of him and gain his trust to grow popular themselves. This kid though, he had just seemed utterly _star struck_ when he had seen him, and then on top of that he goes and embarrasses himself like that!

He clutches his stomach, and leans against the wall, heaving for air.

Next to him, Tsukishima just stares, terrified. He’s only talked to one person and he’s already fucked up, in front of one of the three guys he admires the most in the world. He fidgets with the hem of his cloak, watching it turn black again slowly, too slowly for his liking.

He just wants this day to end. His life too, when he thinks about it. Death sounds awfully tempting.

After a full minute of constant laughing, Kuroo finally stops. He wipes a tear away from the corner of his eye, and grins. He regrets having been late on purpose now, and tries to channel his feeling through a good-hearted handshake. He stretches his hand out, sincerely. Tsukishima seems to snap out of his distant stare, and looks at the hand as if it’s poison.

“Welcome to Mahoutokoro, I’m Kuroo Tetsuro, nice to meet you!”

Although obviously embarrassed and humiliated, Tsukishima feels too much pride to run away from a handshake from _the_ Kuroo Tetsuro. Abandoning the scene would be like jumping off a cliff to the certain death- and no matter how tempting that sounds, he just can’t. Gripping the hand somewhat hesitatingly, he scowls. Kuroo’s hand is warm, and rough.

There’s no need for him to repeat his name. Kuroo will probably remember it for the rest of his life anyway.

As soon as Kuroo opens his eyes, Tsukishima musters all his strength to stop scowling, and he succeeds, somehow. It’s not a scowl, but it’s certainly not a smile either. In the back of his mind he remembers that his big brother hates that expression; that he says it makes him look like he’s been walking amongst bitches for centuries. Well, whatever that means. Kuroo doesn’t seem bothered by it.

“Want to see your room?” Kuroo points his thumb at the hallway behind, indicating the direction.

“S-sure.” He picks up his bag.

It feels strange, but Kuroo leads him down the halls and up a set of stairs, strolling casually. It’s almost as if what just happened is out of his mind, but Tsukishima can still feel his cheeks burn with heat. He clutches at his bag, searching for comfort. Not that a lifeless bag strap will give him that, but the texture helps him focus on something else. He just feels so _stupid._

“So, you’re a Gryffindor?” Kuroo looks back at him, although Tsukishima’s gaze moves up too late to catch Kuroo’s stare. The older is already looking forwards again.

“Why do you assume that?”

“Your… pride?” Kuroo tests. His cloaks collar turns white. Bullshit. The headmaster told him days ago. He’s just trying to have a casual conversation. He hates awkward silence.

Tsukishima’s eyes catch sight of the white spreading, but he doesn’t feel quite sure about what he should point out about it. He doesn’t know the exact triggers the color changing their cloaks have yet. Kuroo might just be not entirely sure of his statement, so he lets it slide.

“Yes. I am.” He replies.

“Where’re you from? You sound…”

“Miyagi,” He cuts Kuroo off, knowing he wouldn’t like the last bit of that line. his gut twists with fear, while thoughts fly around in his head. Is his status going to ruin him already?

He remembers the days back at home; summers spent practicing flying on his broomstick alone, practicing quidditch, alone.

_“You’re too rich! Come back when you’re struggling like the rest of us!” “huh!? You bought a broomstick model like ours!? Are you looking down on us or something! You can afford anything you bastard!”_

_“You can play with us if you help us cheat when we play against Nohebi”_

His grip on the bag tightens.

“Ohh… Miyagi wasn’t good enough?” Kuroo probes, jokingly.

“It wasn’t my choice to come here, really.” Tsukishima mutters. “My parents moved nearby without letting me have any say in it.” If he could just manage to save himself from being seen as what the people back home saw him as-

_“huh!? Why didn’t you cheat!? We could have won!”_

_“let’s show him how we treat traitors!”_

“hmm… do you like quidditch?” Kuroo moves on, hearing the sternness of Tsukishima’s voice.

“I suppose…” Tsukishima mumbles, taken aback at first. He loves watching, and he loves playing, but he’s never played enough to really know what it feels like to be in a real match. Thinking of this, he feels ashamed. Here he’s talking to one of the greatest Quidditch team captains in all of Japan, and he doesn’t even feel like he can talk about Quidditch.

Kuroo chuckles, catching the blond’s attention. “That’s good then... cause you’re rooming with a Quidditch maniac.”

“Huh?” Tsukishima’s not sure he follows, and quirks his eyebrow up, puzzled. No one said anything about sharing rooms…

Kuroo stops in front of a slide door, and turns to him with a sly grin unlike any Tsukishima has ever seen. Tsukishima stops walking, unsure what to make of it. As much as the grin is captivating, Kuroo is also pointing at something next to the doors handle, and Tsukishima follows Kuroo’s index finger with his eyes- until his gaze lands on what Kuroo is grinning about.

“Well, since the headmaster thought you needed someone intuitive and extroverted to make you feel at ease quicker-” Kuroo starts, before chuckling. “He decided to room you with someone from your own house so you’d end up in some of the same classes and all…”

Tsukishima can feel his stomach whirl while he reads the characters on the name tag over and over.

“He’s been quite excited about meeting his new roommate, you know. He’s been looking through your belongings too… you should definitely smack him on the head for that. Though, he’s sleeping like a Deadman at the moment so you won’t get much reaction. I don’t think I need to tell you who he is, by the looks of your expression,” Kuroo explains, slyly.

“I’ll be waiting for you at the ugly sofa.” He adds, and with that, he turns on his heel and walks away, shoulder brushing slightly against Tsukishima’s as he passes.

Tsukishima can barely think straight, his eyes focusing on the name above his own on the name tag.

His name last, and above-

_Bokuto Kotarou._


	2. What a day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the kind comments on the first chapter, they really gave me power to work harder!

Sneaking into the room was easy enough. Bokuto Kotarou, last year and one of Tsukishima’s three idols, is snoring so loudly Tsukishima couldn’t have woken him even by clapping two cymbals’ together. Closing the slide-door and studying his upperclassman’s face, Tsukishima makes a face himself. Bokuto is drooling… are 18-year old’s supposed to do that? They can’t be…

He slides into the room, still cautious out of habit, eyeing the older as he makes it to his own bed. His bed is surprisingly comfy-looking, actually. Up until now, Tsukishima had thought that the beds might just have been futons on the floor, but no; the single bed is in fact a _bed_ and stands neatly placed against the opposite wall of Bokuto’s, leaving a good room between the two. His bed has been made, and there’s even a tiny mint chocolate on top of the fluffy looking pillow. The beddings are according to his houses colors.

Tsukishima’s eyes glide over to Bokuto again. His features are more breath-taking up close than hundreds of meters away. His cheek is squished against the pillow he’s hugging so tightly, and his eyelids look light as he sleeps with a sound expression. The way his hair is still spiked, but falls along the pillow and over his forehead is a bigger surprise though. Tsukishima always assumed that his hair was just styled with lots of hair wax, but up close he can’t even see a single trace of it. _Weird_ , he thinks. But what is weirder is the fact that his upperclassman’s beddings are a mix of black, grey white and yellow, not according to his house’s theme at all- and that his bed is overflowing with blankets that poke out from underneath the top cover. If Tsukishima looks closer, he can see that there’s feathers all over them too.

While sitting down and putting his bag to the side, Tsukishima’s eyebrow quirks up as he gets more perplexed.

There stood nothing about pets being allowed or _not_ being allowed in the pamphlets. Maybe Bokuto has a pet bird of some kind? He squints as Bokuto snores loudly and turns around, taking his duvet with him. Feathers fly up in the air, and one of them drift over to Tsukishima’s shoe easily, as the light breeze from the open window caries it. The feather resembles one of an owl, the colors white, black and grey spotted. Picking it up and twisting it around slowly, Tsukishima mumbles to himself.

“hmm.”  It’s definitely an owls feather, tiny, fluffy, and rounded on the end. Tsukishima’s about to look over at Bokuto once again, but something stalls him. He catches sight of his own old-styled closet from the corner of his eyes and as a thud comes from it a chill goes down his spine. The closet door opens slowly, creaking loudly. Tsukishima’s almost sure some kind of dark and scary ghost will come out- until he sees his own robes, shoes and books tumble out with a giant thud. the floor gets flooded with all kinds of papers too, some less important, and some that have big value to him. Lastly, out rolls his electronic devices, and his new unused broomstick. Due to his own startled state, he fails to notice one of the many papers slide under Bokuto’s bed and getting stuck under a box there.

Tsukishima stands up, dumbfounded, and even Bokuto’s snoring stills. He fears that if the door downstairs hadn’t woken up the dead, this would do it.

Midst all the mess, he sees his wand. It might as well be good he found it, because if he had to clean up this mess manually it might have taken all day. Did he not put a spell on the closet to keep the things inside in order and in place, he muses?

Picking it up, he feels the wand welcome the warmth of his hand with an equal warmth, almost as if it wants to say it missed him. Tsukishima feels a pang of guilt, but it’s not his fault the sea-train doesn’t allow wands. They’ve had trouble lately, with young brats unable to control the power of the cherry wands the school requires them to have. Luckily, Tsukishima didn’t need to change wands, considering he already had a cherry wood wand from before. Its core is phoenix though, which the school doesn’t exactly allow due to it holding most students back. However, they do make exceptions with cases like his. He’s just glad he didn’t need to get a new one.

He rolls it between his fingers, feeling the handle roll to comfortable and familiar places. When it lies calmly in his palm, he grasps around it and flicks it down gently. It took him months, but after having practiced non-stop, he’d mastered certain spells to a degree of not having to say them to cast them. That’s for the better, since he doesn’t want to wake Bokuto more than the ruckus might have already done.

As the spell is cast, a tiny flash of blue ejects from the wand’s finely polished tip, and sparks fly out towards the mess. Slowly at first, but quickly growing in speed, objects start flying about and into the closet in a neat order. His broomstick is last in, and settles in its holder placed on the inside of the door. The closet’s door then closes with a swift click, and the room is once again orderly… at least on Tsukishima’s side. The paper underneath Bokuto’s bed stays still, having been unable to come free, and still unnoticed.

Tsukishima puts his wand back to the inside his boot, where he has few straps designed to hold it in place.

Looking over at Bokuto, he stills. Did not Kuroo say that he had gone through his things without his permission?  Bokuto slowly starts snoring again, after ages of being completely silent. It sounds a lot more forced than before though, and Tsukishima just _knows_.

“You’re awake, aren’t you?” He asks, suspicious. He wonders how Bokuto will react, if he’s angry at him for having disturbed his sleep, or if he’s angry about Tsukishima intruding his personal space by rooming with him. It’s not like he had a choice to do anything but accept it, Tsukishima realizes. what if-

“Ahh, you got me there! haha” Bokuto laughs loudly, and sits up in his bed. His hair gets even spikier somehow, and he laughs awkwardly while rubbing his neck.  

Tsukishima steps back, stunned.

“Sorry about that! I just… when I opened your closet yesterday the spell must have worn off and I didn’t know how to cast the spell again so I just… tucked everything back in! Sorry!” Bokuto lowers his head, and claps his hands together. “Also I will inform you that I did not go through your underwear drawer!” he adds, expressing himself loudly.

“You…”  Tsukishima tries to digest the information, but losses his voice when he _looks_ at Bokuto. His shoulders are broad, his arm muscles are absolutely glorious, and his chest and stomach are toned enough to see the obvious outlines of each muscle. His skin is clear, and a few tones darker than his. He fits it- he fits his body so _well_ , but what’s the most stunning part of him is his eyes. The light settles over them and reflects the ochre color in his irises so perfectly.  His eyes are so round and pretty…

Bokuto tilts his head, confused. “Are you ok? You’re not mad at me for looking through your stuff or something?” He shifts on the bed, letting the duvet slide further down onto his lap before he stands up and grabs Tsukishima’s shoulders. That makes Tsukishima snap back to reality, and his eyes grow wide.

“Promise me you won’t kill me!” Bokuto whines, shaking him.

“What, no- I’m not going to… uhh.” Tsukishima gets shaken too much to reply properly, but Bokuto seems to have heard.

“Oh, thank god!” He breathes out relieved. Meanwhile, Tsukishima looks down to see him wearing nothing but a pair of black, tight boxers. it’s pretty difficult to avoid looking at, when Bokuto’s v-line is so profound and leads straight to the view. Then further down, is Bokuto’s thighs, but he’s just about to look at them when Bokuto’s voice perks up and brings his attention back up.

“Gya! I almost forgot!” Bokuto tiptoes. “I was so excited to meet you, you have no idea, like, I’ve always wanted a roommate! So, what’s your name!?”

“Tsukishima… Kei.”

“I’ll call you Kei then,” Bokuto smiles.

Tsukishima’s about to say something, that he doesn’t want him to, but when he sees how proud Bokuto looks at his own words he shuts his mouth again while pressing his lips into a thin line. Ok, maybe Bokuto can call him by his first name. it’s not like it’s a big deal, he probably does that with everyone, he’s not special because of it.

 “Well nice to meet you-” he starts.

“Oh yeah nice to meet you too!” Bokuto says, excitedly. He brings his hands down from Tsukishima’s shoulders, and grips around his wrists instead. It’s an insignificant action, but it has Tsukishima blushing by the second.

“My last name’s Bokuto, but you can call me Kotarou if you want! That’ my first name, if you didn’t know,” Bokuto continues, seemingly unaware of Tsukishima’s growing blush.

“No, I knew…kinda,” he answers. Bokuto looks so handsome, it’s _unbelievable_. He can feel his heart beat a little faster, but curse it because _hell no,_ he can’t go around crushing on his idols like that! First it was Kuroo, and now it’s Bokuto… if they figure him out he’ll probably be ridiculed by both of them. He can’t let that happen, even if he’s struggling internally not to squeal because _Bokuto_ is _gripping_ his wrists.

“You’re gripping me pretty tightly,” he forces. He needs Bokuto to let him go. If he keeps holding him he’ll die. Surely.

“Ah, sorry.” Bokuto removes his hands quickly, letting Tsukishima’s wrists free. “It’s an old habit, I guess. It didn’t hurt right?”

Letting one of his arms fall to his side, Tsukishima rubs it carefully. “No, not really…” ok Bokuto is apologizing to him. Bokuto Kotarou…is apologizing to him. It must be a dream. He _shouldn’t_. he looks at the floor, shyly, but sighs none the less relieved.

Bokuto stands in silence, and then takes a step back, studying Tsukishima.

”Hmm.”

He starts with the navy black leather boots, and lets his gaze travel up the black pants to the black belt, and up the white shirt and the long black tie. The cloak, which is fastened with a fancy little round clasp made of gold, is slightly askew because of the earlier shaking he gave him. However, that’s not what catches Bokuto’s attention. That fine-looking face and the delicate, strawberry blond, wavy hair…

Tsukishima feels the stare on him, and looks up from the floor, his expression wary.

“What?”

“Nothing…” Bokuto drawls. “You just…” He shrugs. “You look different than what I expected.”

Tsukishima’s expression changes from suspicion to surprise, and he adjusts his glasses out of habit. “How so?” does he look weird to him? How was he supposed to look like anyways?

“You know-” Bokuto looks around, and then points at the closet, avoiding Tsukishima’s stare. “From how many books and papers you have I thought you’d be like, this tiny guy with big round glasses and maybe black short hair that stuck up everywhere.” He pauses. “Like a nerd, kinda.”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes, and then looks at himself. It’s true he did study a lot. Ok, maybe not just _a lot_. He looks back at Bokuto, eyes narrowing. “How do I look then?”

“Like… you have glasses but they’re not round, and you’re tall, like holy fuck-”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Tsukishima stares. 

“You’ve got blond hair too, which surprised me!” he adds, smiling genuinely. He pauses for a couple of seconds, collecting his thoughts.

“You look like… I don’t know.” Bokuto sits down on the floor, and grumbles, catching Tsukishima off guard. The latter stands stiff, unsure what to do. It’s safe to say he wasn’t prepared for such a detailed yet unprofessional analysis of his appearance, though he _did_ ask.

It takes a couple of seconds before Bokuto seems to get closer to figuring out what he wants to say, but by the time one minute has passed, Tsukishima breaks the silence out of annoyance.

“You don’t need to break your brain or anything.” He sighs. He sits down on his own bed, resting his head in the palm of his hand. Through heavily lidded eyes, he can see Bokuto’s expression darken. The older huffs and grumbles more, almost as if emphasizing that he’s thinking harder, much to Tsukishima’s distaste. The blond puckers his lips, feeling the childish demeanor of his upperclassman get on his nerves. It’s been too much of a long day already. It’s barely past seven, damn it.

Is Bokuto really like this all the time? Some handsome looking, childish, excited guy that takes everything so serious to such a level that he will sit down to think out a proper answer to such a simple question? He eyes Bokuto’s abs, and tries to be discrete when he checks out Bokuto’s thighs... Well, the fact that he’s handsome remains. It’s kind of disturbing, really.

“Aha!” Bokuto yells, and jumps up. Tsukishima averts his eyes quickly, surprised.

“What?”

“You look like a _sexy_ nerd!” Bokuto points at him, and clenches his fist. “I knew it was on the tip of my tongue!” the older rambles, cheering himself on for finally finding the right way to phrase it.

“I look… like a- a what?” Tsukishima asks, cheeks already growing red. That’s the first time someone’s ever said something like that to him, it must be a joke right?

“Like a hot nerd! You know, those who look pretty normal without their glasses but bam! Once they wear their glasses they look like some sexy guy and all,” Bokuto explains, and then he ruffles his hair. “Man, that took me so long I grew hungry!” he adds.

He starts picking up some clothes from underneath his blankets, and dresses himself in a hurry. “Man I hope I’m not too late for breakfast! What time is it anyway!?” looking back at Tsukishima while putting his leg through the pants hole, he balances on his other leg. Feathers fly around as he jumps about, trying to keep himself standing, and one of them lands in Tsukishima’s hair.

He picks it out, still blushing, and looks at it as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. All to hide his blush from his upperclassman, of course.

So Bokuto saw him as a sexy nerd?

That had to be a joke, really.

There’s no hidden cameras, right?

 “It’s seven minutes past seven.” He mutters, covering his mouth slightly.

Bokuto jumps. “Seven!? You mean there’s only one hour left before breakfast!?” he sounds shocked, and yells loudly.  

“It’s an entire hour…” Tsukishima mumbles, confused and mildly scared due to Bokuto’s sudden outburst. He lets go of the feather, not caring that it lands on his pillow. As he sits more straight, a sensation of hunger makes itself present. Maybe breakfast would be good after all, but why would he need more than an hour to get there?

“No you don’t get it! It’s breakfast! The _Sunday_ breakfast if you mind! It is the best breakfast ever- and breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” Bokuto whines, putting on his uniform shirt inside out. “it’s obligatory to go there at least one hour before servings if you want to get all the good stuff!”

Tsukishima can feel himself grow amused, not understanding the importance of the breakfast itself, but entertained by Bokuto’s behavior. What kinds of things would be so amazing that Bokuto absolutely had to go there an entire hour before to see them?

“What’s so good about the Sunday breakfast?” He asks, honestly curious.

Bokuto gasps, loudly. In the split of a second, his expression changes from pure excitement, to something dark and ominous.

“What’s so good about Sunday breakfast!?” Bokuto shrieks.

Tsukishima blinks, shocked. Did he… offend him somehow?

“I’ll show you what’s so good about the Sunday breakfast!”

In a swift movement, Bokuto steps over to the blond, and grabs hold of Tsukishima’s arm before he can react. Before Tsukishima can protest, Bokuto has him up and standing. He doesn’t let any time go to waste, and starts dragging Tsukishima out of the room, eyes locked forwards. He ignores Tsukishima’s many protests, and dashes out into the halls.

Having understood that his protests won’t work, Tsukishima slowly realizes a familiar anxiety is building up. withdrawing his arm doesn’t help, and asking him to let go doesn’t help. It’s familiar, and stupid. It’s so stupid it’s pathetic, but after having had so many bad experiences start with _“I’ll show you”_ and people dragging him off to places he doesn’t know- he can’t help it.

Bokuto _did_ look offended, and Tsukishima is far too aware that he has that effect on people- that he makes them want to show him what they’ve got, in a bad way. But Bokuto isn’t like that, right?

“W-Where are we going?” he asks, barely able to keep the panic under control as his voice quivers. He can only thank the gods for the fact that Bokuto isn’t looking at him, or listening closely.

“You’ll see, it’s really amazing!” Bokuto laughs, hurrying down the stairs. Tsukishima can only follow, but the pure and genuine emotion in Bokuto’s words slows him down. So he hadn’t meant it in a bad way after all…

It strikes him exactly what is happening. A senior is dragging him through the halls while holding his arm, without a trace of malicious intent. Tsukishima allows himself to stare at his back, and observes the way his broad shoulders work under the thin, white shirt. Just as they pass a row of windows, the light hits Bokuto’s back perfectly, making the shirt look like it’s see-through. Tsukishima can see the outlines of muscles working perfectly, and fitting perfectly. After having seen Bokuto celebrate his victories by taking off his shirt several times on the big screen, he thought he’d gotten used to it, but this is… different. It’s within his reach, but more forbidden than ever.

“Kotarou! Why are you dragging that poor kid through the hall!?”

Just as they turn to the right path of the hall, Kuroo appears before them with a stern look on his face. Bokuto halts, but due to the low resistance his fluffy socks give him, his fate is unavoidable. Before he knows it, he slides into Kuroo, comes to a full stop, and since Tsukishima is still in his grasp, it becomes a powerful impact. Tsukishima’s head hits the back of Bokuto’s, and the older two fall over each other, screaming dramatically. Kuroo is a smooth one though, Tsukishima realizes. The black haired Casanova turns the bad situation into an opportunity, and catches himself, before he then catches Bokuto safely in his arms.

Holding over his throbbing nose, Tsukishima observes impressed, yet annoyed. Kuroo is obviously French-dipping Bokuto.

“Ahhh-” rubbing his head and looking up at Kuroo with a dumbfounded expression, Bokuto regains his balance.

“What the hell, babe?” Kuroo says, pushing Bokuto up. “How many times have I told you to not slide on your socks in the hallway!” he continues, looking at Bokuto with the same strict expression as earlier.

“Sorry bro! I didn’t mean to this time!” Bokuto insists, flailing dramatically with his hands. “I totally forgot to put on my shoes!”

While feeling the throbbing in his nose disappear, the word _“babe”_ repeats itself in Tsukishima’s head. did Kuroo really just say that?

“I have a good reason too!” Bokuto assures, pointing at Tsukishima.

“Ohh” Kuroo whistles, sounding unamused. It only fires Bokuto up more, and the silver haired boy grunts.

“I need to show this inexperienced little underling of mine how absolutely fucking cool the Sunday breakfast is!” putting his arm around Tsukishima as if he hadn’t literally _just_ met him, Bokuto puffs his chest out. “Cause I’m a responsible senpai!”

Tsukishima blinks, and then blinks again. “eh?”

“Kou, you know most people don’t like getting dragged along like rag dolls- especially people who just arrived after probably having traveled for hours to get here _before_ six in the morning… he’s probably exhausted now.” Kuroo’s expression softens. “Come with me Tsukishima, I’ll show you the deal with the Sunday breakfast, just like _I_ planned.”

Blinking twice, Tsukishima tenses. They’re…

“Oi I wanted to show him!” Bokuto complains, pushing Tsukishima away and pushing his face close to Kuroo’s face.

They’re fighting over him…

“Well I’ll be the one to show him since the headmaster chose me!” Kuroo banters, smirking smugly while Bokuto tries to shake him forth and back.  “After all, he’d never choose someone who can’t even put on his shirt correctly!” Kuroo hands it to him like it is, but Bokuto seems to take a lot more damage from it than Tsukishima expected, at last from such a simple fact.

It might not be such a surprise that Kuroo is housed in Slytherin after all.

Although…

_Groooowl~_

The sound of his own stomach keeps him from enjoying the fact that he’s being argued over, and he sighs longingly. If only some of them could actually show him where the breakfast was. For all he knows, it might be over by the time those two are done bickering.

As he intervenes his fingers in front of himself, the sound of the two arguing upperclassmen drowns out. Tsukishima wishes the time would go faster; he didn’t even have to see what that _oh so great_ thing was anyway. He just wants food. He leans against the wall, feeling tired. Traveling truly was exhausting…

“Oya.”

A new voice catches him by surprise, and his eyes shift to the side.

“So this is where my two idiots are hanging out…” the boy he recognizes as Akaashi mumbles, uninterested. He stretches lazily, and his neatly tucked shirt rides up a little, exposing soft, clear skin. Yet, Tsukishima’s eyes are glued to his face. His captivatingly pretty face. Standing so close, he can see the long lashes and the plum lips he’s only seen on a screen before, and they are far more magnificent than he could have ever believed. The elegant, and definitely beautiful Akaashi Keiji, is standing right next to him. Out of all of Tsukishima’s crushes on the three players, his crush on Akaashi might have been the one he figured out first. Only by a day or two, but first none the less.

The alarm spreads on his face, as he wonders why Akaashi would be right next to him, of all places. Akaashi’s eyes land on Tsukishima, and he catches onto the alarm. Their exchanging glances last for a few seconds, before Tsukishima breaks the eye contact.

“You’re the new one, right?” Akaashi asks, attentively.

“Yeah.”

His voice bears no trace of shock or surprise, and Tsukishima’s expression settles into a soft one as he relaxes. This time, he didn’t stutter. After having met two of his idols in such a short time, maybe he’s gotten more used to shocking encounters? Finally!

“Hmm… You seem familiar, somehow.” Akaashi mumbles, blinking. He places his hand on his hip, and looks over at Kuroo and Bokuto.

Tsukishima blinks. There’s no way Akaashi can have seen him before, right? he’s never spoken to him before, never stood closer than what he is now, and the actual chance of Akaashi having noticed him that one time at that game would be too ridiculous. Not a chance in the world, Tsukishima thinks.

“I doubt,” He replies.

“Oh?” Akaashi looks back at him, and Tsukishima can yet again feel the intense pressure from being inspected and seized up and down by one of his idols. God, he’d wish they could stop doing that; but on the other hand, he had been doing it too. It might as well be bad karma.

“You’re even taller than Tetsuro, aren’t you?” Akaashi muses.

“Huh?” That was unexpected…

“He’s 187,7 cm, an ideal height for a keeper.” Akaashi explains. “We lack keepers on our team though, so I’m always on the lookout for new ones. I thought that If I found you familiar, then maybe I had seen you in a magazine or something. Am I mistaken?” 

 “I’ve never been in a magazine my entire life… sorry,” Tsukishima replies.

“Huh, strange… how tall were you?”

“Eh, 190,1 cm last time I checked. I took a checkup last week...”

Tsukishima swallows. He’s being interrogated by Akaashi, and it feels too weird. He’s never played in a full quidditch game before, let alone been on any team worth mentioning. To be honest, the self-practice he’s been doing must be like nothing to these high-leveled players. If Akaashi even dares ask what he thinks he will, he’ll decline.

“Want to go get some food?” Akaashi asks.

“Huh?” this time, the surprise is more than just visible, it’s hearable too.

“You look exhausted, Tsukishima.” Akaashi emphasizes, eyeing him up and down. “Let’s go get some food into you before you drop dead.”

_How did he know my name?_

“What about those two?” Tsukishima looks back at Bokuto and Kuroo, who are still fighting. Now though, it sounds like they are arguing about hairstyles.

“Just leave them alone. They won’t finish arguing until they’ve settled things like the wild gorillas they truly are.” Akaashi turns around, his tiny smirk almost invisible. He starts walking, expecting Tsukishima to follow.

“Gorillas…” Tsukishima repeats. He follows Akaashi without questioning where they are going. To be honest, he believes that wherever Akaashi will take him, they’ll get there faster than if he had stood put and waited for either Kuroo or Bokuto to stop arguing. He’s pretty sure he could hear the sound of something heavy landing on the sofa too just now.

“Yes, gorillas.” Akaashi confirms. The sound of Kuroo and Bokuto rumbling on the sofa is pretty difficult to not hear, and Tsukishima can’t help but feel a smirk threatening to appear.

“You’re right, they do sound like they belong to that species.” Tsukishima admits. He covers his mouth, unable to keep the laugh away. it’s just a short one, and not a loud one either, but Akaashi hears it anyways.

“I’m Akaashi Keiji, by the way. I doubt you didn’t know though…”

“Oh, how so?”

Akaashi slows down and lets Tsukishima catch up to him while he chuckles lowly. “Let’s go eat.”

 

 

* * *

 

It took Tsukishima a few minutes to take in all of the things going on around him. Firstly, the way he had always seen breakfast; a calm meal in the morning, often consumed alone before going to school- was completely ruined.

Apparently this quiet, peaceful pagoda had a tent in which was bigger on the inside than on the outside, and whilst everything on the outside seemed quiet and ordinary, the inside was busing with life, noise, flying high schoolers, and lots of food. He had never seen anything quite like it.

The second Akaashi had stopped in front of a tiny, barely 5 meters around, tent in the middle of the first floor, Tsukishima had thought he was joking. He had passed by there several times, believing the place to be actually completely empty. If they had so much space around, why the hell should the breakfast be eaten inside such a small, although admittedly fancy and pompous tent!? It just didn’t make sense- but then Akaashi had swung the front curtain away, and behold, there was a room bigger and higher under the roof than the entire pagoda itself. 

The inside was like a gigantic, hollow tower, that had bookshelves towering endlessly up into the air. The bookshelves had no books though, but hundreds of objects stacked in order. Globes, trophies, pictures, necklaces and much more, so much it was difficult to see it all was piled onto the shelves. In the middle of everything was rows and rows of tables, all messy with plates, food and surprisingly, sweets. Lots of them. The students seemed to be towering over the piles, and some snatched up handful’s as they swiped past on their broomsticks.  If that wasn’t a weird sight, Tsukishima didn’t know.

Well, he was about to see something even weirder.

From the endless darkness above hung banners with each houses logos and the school’s logo, origami the size of the actual animals they were supposed to be, and there was a magical drizzle of sakura petals. If he looked closer, he could see the banner with the school’s logo move animatedly, repeatedly looking as if it swung the katana against the moon. As the moon got pierced, the white underneath the black appeared, and the logo became bright.

Whatever it symbolized, Tsukishima didn’t have much time to think of it, or rather, he didn’t manage to comprehend it all at once. It’s just too damn noisy. Everything going on made his head hurt like hell. Had he been just two years younger, then maybe he’d been ecstatic, but not now.  

“You see, miss Hiriko always lets us test her newly made sweets on Sundays before the breakfast… so everyone comes early. She’s pretty sly, for a kind teacher; making us try as much as we can simply because we’re hungry,” Akaashi explains. He closes the tent’s curtain behind himself, expression blank.

“huh…” Still caught up with all the things going on around him, Tsukishima doesn’t notice that Akaashi’s staring at him.

“You ok? You seem bothered…”

Tsukishima turns his gaze to Akaashi instead, and blinks. “Ah… no not exactly bothered. It’s a great place, that’s not it… It’s just…”

“Hmm, I take it a noisy place like this isn’t your kind of thing right?” Akaashi asks softly. He eyes the noisiest bunch of the students, the Quidditch team. A few of the members recognize him, and some of them wave. He only nods back, not really interested in joining them.

“Well, I prefer my quiet places above this…” Tsukishima admits, making a face of mild disgust.

Somehow, he feels like Akaashi won’t mind going somewhere else to eat, if Akaashi is going to join him, that is. It might be that he just showed him the way out of politeness.

“To be honest, so do I.” Akaashi goes over to one of the tables, with Tsukishima following closely behind. He decides to take some of the cold leftovers from the previous day, and hoists a generous amount onto his plate. One big rice bowl, three onigiri’s, a lot of salad, and an enormous amount of some green boiled vegetables dipped in mustard. Tsukishima can only stare at, feeling his stomach hurt from how much it is. It really doesn’t look like it, but apparently, Akaashi eats a lot.

Taking a bowl of rice too, albeit a lot smaller than Akaashi’s helping, he catches sight of a row of cakes. In the middle is a strawberry shortcake, and it looks glorious. Creamy, lots of strawberries, great texture…

“Oh, you can always take some cake too. They’re there for a reason, you know.” Following Tsukishima’s line of sight, he too looks at the cake. the blond jolts, and forces a bored expression. He really doesn’t want anyone to figure out what a sweet tooth he is, really. It’s embarrassing, always being mocked for it.

_“Oh Tsukki loves cake!” “haaah!? That stuck up snob likes cake? he doesn’t look like it…”_

The past churns on his mind, but before he knows it, Akaashi is next to the cake, cutting a huge piece off for himself and putting it on a separate plate. When Tsukishima gapes at him, he only shrugs.

“What can I say… I’m a glutton.”

The older looks at the poor excuse of a helping on Tsukishima’s plate, and frowns. “You need more than that.” He says. “you won’t survive rooming with Kotarou otherwise.”

“Hah?!”  What kinds of extreme trials did Bokuto make his teammates go through?! Also, his stomach isn’t that big, he can barely force down a full bowl of rice for lunch- not to speak of breakfast. No matter how hungry he is, if he somehow overestimates his hunger and goes for a full portion, there’s always something left.

“I don’t usually-”

“Here” Akaashi interrupts, placing a big portion of fried chicken nuggets and fries onto his plate. “There’s a microwave over there,” he says, as if that’s going to help Tsukishima digest the horror he feels in his gut. He admits it, chicken nuggets are up on his list of favorite foods, pretty high up too, but this much!?

He follows the older mindlessly as he goes over to the microwaves, and can only stare helplessly as his plate disappears into it for heating. When he isn’t looking and just stares at the plate as it goes around in circles, Akaashi sneaks away to take another piece of cake. He puts that piece on another separate plate. When the microwave dings, he takes the plates out and reaches Tsukishima his. Without questioning the reason why Akaashi now has two cake pieces, Tsukishima takes his plate and follows Akaashi as they leave.

By the time they’ve gone out and wandered up the stairs to the third floor, a floor Tsukishima hasn’t been on yet, Akaashi sits down onto the floor, crossing his legs neatly while he places the plate in his lap. However, Tsukishima stands still in the doorway.

The new room they entered exceeds his expectations.

There’s fishes everywhere.

A big tank, reaching from one meter above the floor and all the way up and under the roof, decorate the entire room. The tank is enormous, and acts like a dome over them. It has a deep blue color, and inside swims various species of fish, jellyfish, and shrimps. It’s like in a public aquarium, but it’ far more breathtaking. That’s not the only tank there is though, no. there’s several other tanks too, placed around in order. They’re big, but shrink in compared to the dome. Inside some of these; mysterious glowing eyes watch them.

While looking around, Tsukishima slowly finds his place next to Akaashi. He sits underneath a tank with colorful goldfish, enchanted with some kind of glowing magic. The glow of orange settles on Akaashi just like the morning sun’s rays would do, and he looks more magical than the fish themselves.

Tsukishima sits down next to him, his expression soft as he admires the view.

“Pretty, right?” Akaashi asks.

“Yeah” he nods carefully, slowly moving his gaze from Akaashi to the tank right in front of them.

They grow silent, both engulfed by their food. Tsukishima enjoys the silence, feeling the stress from earlier withdraw. It’s so peaceful in this room that on several occasions, he feels close to falling asleep.

Miraculously, he manages to finish all of his food. It’s by a tiny margin though, since he had to force down the last two nuggets. The scent of the two strawberry shortcake pieces next to them makes him feel nothing but nauseous because of it, and he looks at them begrudgingly. He knows Akaashi only took them for himself, but really, they look so tempting. Yet, he doesn’t want to even touch food again for another decade.

It must have been around thirty minutes or so, when Akaashi finally speaks up.

“We study the magical creatures living in water here… most of the students find this place boring, but I like it here. The bussing of the water is calming.” Akaashi’s expression is relaxed, his eyes fixed on the fishes above them.

“I think this is my favorite place.” Tsukishima replies. He speaks quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace. He tears his eyes off the sweet treat right in front of him, and looks up too.

Akaashi hums and blinks slowly, his gaze settled on Tsukishima when he opens his eyes.

“Ready for dessert?”

Tsukishima looks at him as if he were the devil himself, but also as if he was his lord and savior at the same time.

By the time they have both forced down the borderline _heavenly_ cake pieces, they’re both so stuffed, Akaashi jokes that he might levitate himself back to his room. It makes the blond laugh, more heartedly than earlier that morning. This time, he doesn’t even cover his mouth. He jokes back, saying that mere students like them can’t levitate something that heavy, and they both laugh softly. They both banter forth and back for several minutes, ending up lying on the floor comparing themselves to some of the fat fishes.

Tsukishima never expect Akaashi to laugh that heartedly next to him. In fact, he hadn’t expected himself to laugh that heartedly so soon either. It’s such a weird experience, he thinks, but he cherishes it none the less.

When Akaashi says that he thinks Tsukishima is a better guy than he appeared, Tsukishima giggles lowly. Shortly after, the giggle dies out as he sighs heavily.

It’s a compliment that he wasn’t prepared for at all, and he blushes.

The rest of the day goes fast when Kuroo and Bokuto find them there, and decide to abduct Tsukishima for a round around the place; just like they originally had planned. Akaashi, who had by then taken a great interest in the new 5’th year student, joins them without question. 

They show him all the 10 levels of the pagoda; the first one consisting of the entrance, the one very long hall going in circles, the ugly sofa, and the enchanted tent. He learns that the free space around the tiny tent is used for setting up stages for wizarding battles, and that students are free to put them out whenever they want during their spare time. The tent is simply placed in the middle for decorative purposes.

Anyhow, on the second and third floor are the dorms, where the students sleep, live, and do their homework or hobbies. The floors above are used as classrooms- however the top floor is forbidden area for the students. Kuroo explains proudly that that’s where the school’s guards live, but he refuses to tell Tsukishima exactly what the guards are. Bokuto refuses too, and Akaashi plays along even though he looks bored.

It’s only when they’ve come outside that Akaashi informs him that there are levels beneath the pagoda too, but that they are all off limits.

“the basement is haunted” Kuroo says, in a straight tone.

“yeah right” Tsukishima replies.

“I’m serious” He insists.

 “Even more haunted than the Aokigahara forest…” Bokuto adds, serious.

He looks at Akaashi, unsure to actually believe them. The boy shrugs, and then nods.

“It’s what the teachers say, at least.”

“Oh” Is all Tsukishima can muster, surprised. He looks at their cloaks, and surely enough, no white is spreading. Maybe Bokuto was stretching the truth though, since he wasn’t wearing his cloak.

He shrugs too. It’s not like he really fears the dead, he simply doesn’t like how naughty and impish they can be. His old house had a ghost; a tiny dog. It was cute, but sometimes it got playful and shredded all their furniture, and mostly his parent’s clothes. For some reason the dog let him be unbothered most of the time, but Tsukishima would still have to help fix the mess. It was bothersome.

The group leads him down another tiled path through the sakura tree forest, and they end up at the shore.

The shore’s sand is black, shiny, and warm to the touch due to the sun warming it up easily. Upon looking closely at the tiny pebbles, they almost appear as if they were covered in glass. Truly, it’s a pretty beach.

“I love this beach…” Kuroo stretches out, enjoying the wind and scent of saltwater. The wind ruffles his hair and cloak gently.

“We use to set up our quidditch field out here sometimes when it’s windy, so that we get better results from our practice,” Bokuto inquires, he sits down in the sand, and takes off his shoes to feel the sand with his bare feet. Surprisingly, Akaashi does the same.

“We also use to burry Tetsuro in the sand when he falls asleep here,” Akaashi smirks.

“Hey! Leave my sand loving body out of your pranks!” Kuroo whines. Just as he is about to turn around to scold them, a wave hits in over his shoes, and he jumps, letting out a tiny shriek. Their laugh mixes with the sounds of the sea, and the many seabirds circling above them.

 

* * *

 

once the morning has turned into evening, Tsukishima can feel his soul threaten to leave him.

The dinner had shown him that it wasn’t just Akaashi that was a glutton and a big eater. Furthermore, Akaashi wasn’t the only one who meddled with how _“little”_ he had on his plate either. They all did. Bokuto stacked a tower of meat onto his plate, Kuroo stacked mountains of rice and vegetables, and Akaashi put together a neat little heap of sweets the size of Tsukishima’s entire torso. 

He couldn’t have finished all of it even if his life had depended on it, but the supper would show to be even worse.

“You don’t want to go to bed hungry!” Bokuto exclaimed, while forcing him downstairs to go get a last helping before the night rolled in.

It was, if anything, surreal.

Once he had gone through it all, and was finally lying on his bed in his cozies t-shirt and the most comfortable shorts he had, he wondered If everything had just been a weird dream. But pinching himself in the arm didn’t wake him up.

It was real.

And Bokuto definitely has a pet owl.

The owl looms over him, its eyes glued to his face with a threatening scowl. Normally, Tsukishima would have been happy to have a creature like an owl this close to him, but this owl…

“She’s just salty because she used to have her favorite stick over there,” Bokuto informs, cooing for his pet owl to come back. He had had the stick hidden under the piles of blankets, but it now stood next to his bed, and Bokuto had spent the entire past hour trying to make the owl come back to him, without succeeding.

“Does she really shed that much?” Tsukishima asks, horrified, but not showing it on his face. The owl looks at him even darker, offended.

“Nah those feathers are her friends’,” Bokuto smiles, puckering his lips together to make a pout. “They wreaked havoc here during the night because she had been gossiping about her favorite stick being taken away and they came for revenge…”

“Revenge?” Tsukishima blinks, lifting an eyebrow.

“Yeah… I barely escaped.”

Bokuto flails, and then raises his voice, “But, Hootini, come back!” he flails dramatically, whining for his pet to come back. The owl doesn’t even flinch, and keeps staring down at Tsukishima as if he was prey. Though, Tsukishima’s had enough.

He sits up, tired and just simply too done to deal with this anymore. If he had to listen to Bokuto call for the damn owl one more time he would downright wrestle the owl back to its “stick”, and furthermore, who calls their owl Hootini!? It’s such a stupid name…

He points at the stick, and looms over the owl. She flinches, surprised by the sudden movement.

“Go,” is all he says with the fiercest voice he can muster.

“She won’t listen to a stranger, man-” Bokuto starts, but then…

Hootini looks in the direction Tsukishima is pointing, and quivers when she looks back at the fiery eyes that are glowering at her. She lifts her long claws off the bedside, moves herself slowly to the edge of the bed, and then turns her head to look at Tsukishima directly, one last time. “Now,” Tsukishima emphasizes. 

Hootini finally flaps off to the stick, looking over at Tsukishima for approval once she’s there. He nods while lying down onto his pillow, and Hootini puffs her feathers out when his stare isn’t as dangerous. She closes her eyes, looking snug on her favorite spot.

Bokuto looks at, eyes blown wide with amaze.

“Dude…” Bokuto rustles on his bed, and moves closer to look at his owl. He studies her, his face nearly touching the feathered creature as he sits on all four. As he looms about, she lets out a tiny, content hoot. Bokuto’s known this owl nearly his entire life, and not once has she hooted like that near a stranger. It just doesn’t happen, and she _never_ listens to just anyone; not even people who have fed her have been able to order her around. Gasping loudly, he whips his head around to ask Tsukishima how the hell he made her listen, but he stops, mouth agape.

Tsukishima managed to fall asleep. His chest heaves up slowly, and his eyes are closed lightly. One of his hands are spread over his chest, and he’s facing Bokuto.

“Oh…” Bokuto blinks.

His eyes go forth and back between Tsukishima and Hootini, and then he sits back onto his bed.

“Huh…”

He picks up his phone that has been lying underneath his pillow all day, and turns off the lights above him. He taps away on his phone quickly, sticking his tongue out in thought. Once he slows down the typing, he peeks back at Tsukishima, whose glasses have slid down on his nose.

He sends the message, and huffs.

“children…”

Bokuto moves out of his bed, careful to not make any sounds as he makes his way over to the younger. He crouches down in front of Tsukishima carefully, and Hootini looks at him weirdly. He eyes her, and she narrows her eyes.

“Don’t tell him” he whispers, as if the owl would be able to tell Tsukishima what he was about to do. The younger shifts in his sleep, and his glasses fall off, right into Bokuto’s hands. The room grows silent, and only the moon illuminates Tsukishima’s gentle features. Endearing eyes watch him for a while, then, the sound of a camera snapping a photo can be heard. A tiny flash of white lights up the room, and then Bokuto plops back to his bed as he types away on his phone. As he lies back onto his bed and covers himself with his duvet, he says goodnight to Hootini. The owl hoots back gently, watching him.

Shortly after, Bokuto’s screen lights up.

 

 **KEIJI** ❤

**Received 00:12**

_How’s things going? You’re not bothering him, right Kou?_

**Sent 00:14**

_Nuuh! Keiji! Look!_

 

**Image sent 00:14**

 

 **KEIJI** ❤

**Received 00:16**

_Oh my god._

**KEIJI** ❤

**Received 00:16**

_Stop harassing him when he sleeps, Kou! let the poor baby rest._

**TETSU** ❤

**Recived 00:16**

_OH MY~_

**KEIJI** ❤

**Recived 00:17**

_Tetsu no._

**TETSU** ❤

**Recived 00:17**

_Tetsu yes!_

It doesn’t take Bokuto long before he falls asleep too, tired from the long day as he is. He holds the phone in his hand, and the messages from Kuroo and Akaashi continue to buzz in as he sleeps with a smile on his face.

 

The two roommates, and Hootini, are pleasantly unaware of what the next day will bring them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahah, this chapter got longer than I expected ^D^  
> Please comment and tell me what you think of this chapter as well!


	3. An eye for an eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slight angst warnings for this chapter.

Classes started nicely. After taking him to the 4’Th floor, Miss Hiriko, the candy-loving teacher, presented herself to him as his main teacher. She was overall a kind looking woman in her mid-forties, whom appeared to love floral patterns. Although wearing the school’s teacher uniform, which consisted of the same elements as the students, plus a teacher badge and blue cloaks instead of black ones, she was wearing a floral patterned hair band to keep her long wavy brown hair up. Her glasses had tiny flowers circling the rims too, and well, not surprisingly, she had floral patterned twin-tattoo sleeves that went from her wrists and up. 

Tsukishima had immediately felt comfortable with her, and she had kindly told him that class would be fun, and gave him a package of cookies.

Placing the cookies safely in his smaller school bag, he sat down on an old styled desk at the back of the class. Bokuto, whom had run in before him, sat two seats in front of him. He had explained earlier that because this class; PEOM (the Planets Effect on Magic) was an advanced elective one, students from years 5’Th to 7’Th took it together. It was rare that he saw 5’Th year students take them though, he had explained, since they usually could not handle it. It was mainly a class for seniors who had dropped taking a selective class during their 6’Th year. _“Kei is a weird guy, Keiji, he’s taking crazy hard classes_!” he’d overheard Bokuto say as the two upperclassmen had passed each other in the hall this morning.

Well, Tsukishima himself didn’t find anything weird with it, since he genuinely enjoyed learning about the basic astronomy that the muggles taught. It was amusing to see what the two parts taught differently. Whereas the muggles believed that the planets gravity, density, size and distance from the sun were the most significant things about them, the wizards thought differently. They had learnt in the past years that the alignment of the planets, their mantle and the material they were made of all had a great effect on magic and wizard’s wands. 

It had interested Tsukishima greatly, and he’d studied it in secret during his 3’rd and 4’Th year. It had indeed been a very difficult subject. The first chapter of the lesions were “how to read yourself”, a horrifyingly long chapter consisting of five hundred pages. In addition, it was all about how to figure out what condition your wand or overall your current magical flow was in. it was crazy complicated, almost like Stephen Hawkins first secret wizarding book. However, Tsukishima had understood both. First, you’d have to go through a difficult set of spells to make fluid space in a bowl, a new kind of magical substance. The space in a bowl substance was thick, liquid-like, yet not wet at all, and felt like the coldness of a fog mixed with finely grained sand. The color of the slowly swirling substance was never constant, always changing and shimmering, just like a nebula.

Tsukishima had figured out the wrong way that you were not in fact supposed to drink the liquid; you were supposed to put your wand in it and see in what direction it floated, and how the substance reacted at the touch. Luckily, no harm was done. It just tasted very weird and made his eyes change color for three weeks straight... children had screamed at him though, naturally. 

Then, after having learnt better how to do the first step, he now felt ready to take step two- which would be analyzing the information.

He took out his books, looked forwards, and ignored all the lively students in the abnormally normal classroom. He had noted yesterday that the only surprising thing about the classroom was the floating globes above them, each one representing a planet, and each one being at a correct distance from the other.  The sun hung in the middle of the classroom, right above some bored looking pudding head.

One of the students next to him was aiming for him with a slingshot, but missed horribly, and hit the sun instead, making the paper piece fling back at double speed, hitting him in the eye. His shriek disturbed the chatter for a brief second, but the students were quick to resume. This kid had silvery hair, and he looked a lot taller than the others. He looked stupider too. Who didn’t know that if you hit a planet replica like those you would be hit back with double force?

While scoffing and rolling his eyes, Tsukishima tries to focus more on the teacher as she places a big bowl on her desk. The bowl clatters, and the students suddenly go silent. Tsukishima looks around, surprised. Apparently, in this class, the sound of the bowl clattering against the desk is native for “shut up.” He moves his eyes back to her as she clears her throat, and the class seems to suddenly be even more on edge.

“Today, class, we will once again try to succeed in making Space in a bowl.” Some students chatter and look around, as if she had just said something unheard of.

“And today… we will try to not blow up Lev-kun’s pants, ok?” She looks around, nodding to make the class understand her intentions. “He doesn’t need any more damages, okay? The shoe incident was bad enough...” She adds. Some people laugh, and one guy in particular laughs louder than all the others. Tsukishima clicks his tongue silently. Of course, it is Bokuto.

 “You have things to worry about too, Bokuto-kun.” She glares. Bokuto tenses and his laugh comes to a halt.

“You still haven’t even attempted to make it, and currently you’re without a single point.”

Tsukishima blinks. Points? He looks around as the class starts laughing again, all at Bokuto’s expense. He looks ashamed, and shouts at someone, telling them to shut up before blushing darkly.

“Shit” he grabs his hair, horrified. “That means! -”

“Exactly, Bokuto-kun. Trying and failing is still an attempt, and will earn you points,” She says, crossing her arms over her chest. “But as I said last week, those who get scores under 20 will not be able to go to the Quidditch match next month…that might be a problem for you.”

Bokuto whines and runs both his hands through his hair, looking desperate.

Meanwhile, Tsukishima notices a scoreboard next to the blackboard. There is several names listed from top to bottom with certain scores behind. Bokuto’s name is last, with a full score of zero. Above him is Lev’s name, with a score of nine. The numbers keep on growing, and from the top five names, the scores leap up to near 60. Tsukishima wonders how much you would have to do to get such a score, but then, Bokuto did say no one had succeeded in even making the substance. It really shouldn’t be that difficult, right. Yet Bokuto didn’t even have a single point?

The teacher huffs, looking smug, and then she smiles. “Anyways, pair up; we’re going to try again today. You can find the first formula on page 1116. Now try to not blow up the place ok?” She claps her hand together, signaling for everyone to get moving.

Some students run over to familiar faces, it seems, while others slump over to the student next to them. Bokuto however, sits still on his spot.  Everyone he looks at ignores him. It is not as surprising as it should have been. The look on his face when he realizes everyone is already in pairs however, that’s what surprises Tsukishima. It’s heartbreaking. Bokuto looks around slowly with a dejected expression, his composure lacking the pride he usually radiates.

Tsukishima leans back, his expression showing concern. In the back of his mind, he briefly reminds himself he needs a partner too, although he’d rather do it alone. Pairing up would only be troublesome after all. His eyes scan the room once, though, no one seems available…except…

Just as Tsukishima’s gaze shifts back to Bokuto, their eyes meet, and Bokuto lights up.

He jumps up from his seat and shuffles all of his books over to Tsukishima’s desk before the latter can say a word. Bokuto doesn’t even bother to shove Tsukishima’s books aside- he just places his own on top of them, making a tall book barricade between them and the rest of the world.

All admiration and pity for his older classmate flies out of Tsukishima’s mind. What is left is a regret of having stared at him. He now fears what a bumpy ride his road to a good grade will be. Working in pairs is a pain; working with Bokuto will be-

“What a coincidence it is that we both lack a partner!” Bokuto exclaims as he sits down, charismatically happy. He abrupt Tsukishima’s trail of negative thoughts, albeit he earns himself a sour expression anyway.

“Yeah,” Tsukishima exhales. “ _Coincidence_ …” he musters. This is bad. 

The class then falls oddly silent, and some random person Tsukishima hasn’t spared much thought to peeks at them from above the wall of books. His nose is practically rubbing against them, his brown, vibrant eyes wide with bewilderment as he watches Tsukishima. “ _Great, another weird one_ ” is what Tsukishima thinks. This one has wild orange hair, a short child-like nose, and big round eyes- and they’re staring at _him_. They’re intense, as if they’re boring through him in search of an answer to a question he hasn’t yet asked. It reminds him of someone; someone he doesn’t want to be reminded of.

Tsukishima raises an eyebrow, feeling his patience plummet. 

“Do you want something?” he feels little joy in being ogled, just as any other normal person would. It gives him the creeps.

As he himself breaks the silence, he hears others sigh and mutter. All from “ _he’s at it again_ ” to “ _let’s see how long it will take him this time_ ”. The class is muttering and the hushed phrases makes Tsukishima wary, and his suspicion shows.

“It’s only Shouyou, Kei.” Bokuto introduces the shorty, and grins. The boy named Shouyou straightens up, and smiles. “Yeah! Shouyou Hinata!” the latter stretches out his hand, expecting a hand shake. Tsukishima doesn’t give it to him.

“Tsukishima Kei.” Is all he says, and then he opens his book on page 1116.

“Ghe! Don’t ignore my handshake like that!”

“You should all be doing your tasks, Hinata.” Tsukishima says, his voice sounding dull. He glances up at the scoreboard, and finds Hinata’s name at the fifth place. His score is 10.

“Or maybe you don’t like Quidditch…” he adds. That makes the shorty tense, and he fusses even more, but leaves them alone after stamping away furiously. Sometimes you can just see it on a person that they are a Quidditch fan.

Bokuto wastes no time in opening his mouth again.

“Dude, harsh,”

“We need to focus on our task, Bokuto.” He reminds.

“Yeah but come on… Shouyou is the best!”

“Read.” Tsukishima forces.

Bokuto whines, but grabs his book anyway, and starts searching for the page Tsukishima is on, until he gives up and peeks over at Tsukishima’s book.

“…Tch… page 1116…” Tsukishima mumbles.

“I knew that!” Bokuto retorts. He then looks at the page and turns silent for a whole thirty seconds. Tsukishima can tell by then that Bokuto is just sticking his tongue out while doodling a stick figure on his desk.

“Do you understand anything of this at all?” he asks.

“This shit looks like math equations!” Bokuto whines, smacking his hands down on the desk. Tsukishima deadpans. How can words look like equations?

Around them people are starting to move around to find ingredients and the right materials, and Tsukishima can vaguely make out that the teacher is observing them from the back of the classroom. He glances around, and then leans closer to Bokuto, propping himself up on his elbows. His gaze finds its way into Bokuto’s.

It’s not as if he hates helping people, it’s just… Bokuto will be thinking that asking him for help is OK if he helps him- which it actually is- but he knows that Bokuto giving him attention even as insignificant as _that_ will make him mistake things. _It will make him believe Bokuto is actually interested in him._ That’s not what Tsukishima wants; he wants to avoid it at all cost. However, Bokuto isn’t aware of this. He does not need to be the one that takes the burden of Tsukishima’s pride.

It’s worth a shot. He’ll be helping one of his idols if he does it.  Maybe Tsukishima won’t fuck it up for himself as he always does. Those eyes evaluate him, search for his thoughts. It makes his chest swell up… but as _a master at being a bitch_ as his brother calls him, maybe he can suppress it.

“I’ll try to help you.” He starts. “But first I want to know a few things.”

Bokuto grins, and then nods exaggeratedly, eyes glued to the blond.

“You want to go to the next Quidditch match, yeah?”

“Fuck yeah. I mean, I have to!” Bokuto replies.

“Then, you have to get your score over 20.” Tsukishima inquires. Bokuto’s expression falters.

“Yeah I know, but I don’t understand anything of this,” Bokuto looks down at his book, and then points at a phrase. “I mean, what does even _get a good sensum_ to your wand mean!?”

“It means _get a feeling of the overall state of your wand_ , Bokuto…” this is ridiculous, how little does Bokuto even know?

“Oh… yeah well that says it all doesn’t it?” Bokuto murmurs, dejected.

“Right… let’s do a deal, yeah? I already said I’d help you.” Tsukishima looks around again, before his eyes find Bokuto’s. His upperclassman looks bemused now, rather surprised by the offer.

“What kind of deal?”

“I help you understand this book, and in return, you let me do the practical parts of this project.” It’s not the biggest deal, in Tsukishima’s mind. However, Bokuto looks overjoyed.

“Really!? You’d do that for me!?” He leans forwards, and Tsukishima jolts at the sudden lack of distance. “Thanks dude! It means a lot to me!” the older reaches out and pats Tsukishima’s back with loud slaps, hard enough to shake the tall teen in his chair. The pain is durable, but the fact that Bokuto presses his chest in Tsukishima’s face is not. He can feel a blush creeping. Before the crisis has occurred though, Bokuto releases him. It is by a slight margin that Tsukishima maintains a straight face.

“Ok. Go find these things then,” he says hastily, avoiding eye contact. “I’ll explain why we need them as we go.” He hands Bokuto a tiny list with materials, and then stands up.

They both part ways then, and Tsukishima finally feels like he can show what he’s there for. He finds a bowl easily, and searches through the things Bokuto has put on his desk, all while carefully explaining to him why they need them and their purposes. In the back of the class, his teacher looks at him with stern eyes and Bokuto looks uncertain where he sits. Tsukishima knows that his teacher might not have many expectations for the team that Bokuto is on, sadly, but that’s not going to stop him. In fact, it only spurs a fire inside of him. Bokuto slowly starts to understand certain parts of the spells, and after barely 15 minutes, he seems ready to try to assist Tsukishima in making it, albeit he can’t reassure him that he will do everything right. 

Tsukishima brings out his wand, assuring his upperclassman that it will be all right. His wand feels warm in his hand, expectant, bussing with life. Bokuto jolts when he starts the show with the first explosive spell, and the bowl fills up with something molten, silver colored and boiling.

The speeds of which Tsukishima casts the rest of the spells are high, higher than any teacher can expect from a mere fifth year student. The mere fact that he doesn’t even utter half of them is more so. The brief flashes of orange, green and white go by so quickly that some of the students drop what they’re doing in favor of watching him with horror and admiration. Bokuto and the teacher alike.

The swirls of magic that mixes in the bowl blends finely, and not a single bit spills outside. It’s obvious that Tsukishima has done this before, the way he knows just when to pause, and when to hurry. The colors in the room all bleak in compared to the variety of those Tsukishima makes. The shine from his wand looks more vibrant than any student has seen in a long time.

In less than twenty minutes, the show is nearly over, and Tsukishima does a finishing flick of his wrist to cast the last spell, one that needs perfect pronunciation and finesse. He adjusts himself, and breathes calmly, silently. As he breathes, a silence falls over the room. Everyone waits in suspense; their attention is on Tsukishima, and the glowing bowl. He opens his mouth.

Liquid gold, that’s what the class hears. The spell in foreign language rolls off his tongue like a stream of liquid gold. Magical, enhancing, beautiful. When he’s done, a gentle, pure string of magic swirls like a feather down in the bowl, and blends with the starry-like darkness in it.  He nods to Bokuto, which has the last ingredient in his hands. Three wilted sunflower petals. Bokuto swallows silently, too amazed to break the silence. He lets go of the petals, and the minute they touch the substance in the bowl, a tiny poof of white confirms that it’s done. Bokuto worries he has ruined it, but Tsukishima sighs and wipes his forehead with his rolled up sleeve, completely calm. Bokuto breathes out then, and looks at the bowl wide-eyed.

“Is… is it done?” he asks, and looks up at Tsukishima.

“It is.” Tsukishima affirms with a slight smile visible on his lips. Bokuto hoots, overjoyed, and hugs Tsukishima abruptly, almost squeezing him to death. The teacher smirks while scribbling something down in her tiny notebook, and then calls out for the students to start packing up. Sadly, there is no time left for Tsukishima to try out the liquid space in a bowl, but the substance is durable and will last until next PEOM period.

One of the last things Tsukishima takes notice of when he leaves is that his name has been written up on the board. Behind it is his score, a full 100 points. As he leaves, he also notes that Bokuto has 21 points, and a smirk tugs at his lips.

 

* * *

 

For the rest of the school day, Bokuto won’t stop pestering him. He follows him everywhere, even ditches his own free period to tag along with Tsukishima to his Alchemy class, which Bokuto finds absurd that he’s even allowed to attend. He keeps asking him questions and coming with remarks all the time as well.

_“How did you get that good at it?”_

_“Handsome and smart too!”_

_“Are you some kind of godly prodigy?”_

_“I bet you can solve a Rubix cube in less than ten seconds”_

_“Wow you’re so smart, kei, wow!”_

It drives Tsukishima crazy. He’s not used to this kind of attention, and furthermore the astounded praise from Bokuto makes his heart flutter. It’s not good for his heart. Therefore, during Tsukishima’s only scheduled break, which lands in the time sloth for Quidditch practice, he thinks he finally has a chance to get some space, and air, considering Bokuto is a die-hard Quidditchoholic. He tries to sneak off to the room Akaashi showed him, but Bokuto catches him in the stairs. Bokuto is strong, far too strong for Tsukishima to resist. He stands no chance when the energetic chaser drags him down to a remote, empty field behind the school.

“…Exactly… what are you doing, Bokuto-san?” Tsukishima finds himself seated on the grassy hill, watching with a confused expression as Bokuto balances onto his broomstick. He sways forth and back as he stands up straight, but quickly regains his balance. It is somewhat impressive, but Tsukishima cannot grasp _why_ he’s doing it. Surely, the chaser has no reason to show him this, and furthermore Tsukishima thought he had practice now. So _why?_

Bokuto beams, ecstatic that Tsukishima asked.

“This is what _I’m_ good at,” he boasts, pressing his thumb to his puffed out chest.

Tsukishima blinks. _Oh._ Well, honestly, he already knew that, but on the other hand, it is flattering that Bokuto even wants to show him this. He feels his face warm up just a little, but just a little, as the winds out on this open field are strong.

“This is what I was born to do!” Bokuto spreads his arms widely. “You probably knew already, but I love to feel the air around me, and I love to move freely!” he laughs. The salty winds from the sea ruffles his hair and shirt. Tsukishima can feel the breeze too, as it comes directly to his face. He looks at Bokuto with one eye, expecting him to be swaying, but has to open both eyes to marvel when Bokuto stays perfectly still.

“I do this almost every day you know, to help my mind stay strong.”

Tsukishima blinks again. He _balances_ to help his mind stay strong? He’d never heard of such a thing before.

“Isn’t your mind already strong enough?” he asks, and rests his head on top of his knees, watching his upperclassman with a hint of admiration in his eyes. 

“Hmm, plenty, but you know, it will falter if I don’t practice. I’m kind of…” Bokuto crosses his arms over his chest, grumbling. Tsukishima waits, his eyes focused on the way Bokuto’s lips turn pouty when he grumbles.

“Afraid of heights.” Bokuto says.

“Eh!?” Tsukishima’s eyes widen. No way, the fearless Bokuto Kotarou was… afraid of heights?

“That reporter woman who interviewed me wrote that I felt no fear of falling or anything when I was up in the air… but truly I just felt too embarrassed to tell her that I am shit scared of heights.”

“W-why are you telling me this?” Tsukishima cannot help but feel lost. Why this of all things? Bokuto has barely been his roommate for one day, hell; they’re not even close enough to be friends, are they? Yet Bokuto just admits something like this spontaneously?

“Well, I saw how passionate you are about everything you study, so I thought I could show you how passionate I was about my passion… ahh it sounded cooler in my head…I guess I wanted to show you that... ahh I don’t know! UGH I’m lost here heavens help me!” Bokuto fumbles with his words and ruffles his hair, searching for the right thing to say.

“I- I wanted to show I’m not just a talentless guy and that I can teach you some things too! You know like an eye for an eye! Like, I can help you overcome fears even!”

“T-that phrase is usually used when one speaks of revenge… what are you saying Bokuto?”

“GHE! It is?”

“Yeah” Tsukishima affirms, confused. What is this overgrown owl trying to say?

“Uh then I guess what I mean is that I want to repay you for helping me with my score in PEOM”

“With… what?”

“With getting you good enough to have a chance at joining our team of course!”

“What!?” Tsukishima exclaims, loud enough to send Bokuto stumbling backwards out of surprise. While grabbing his head and fumbling on the ground, Bokuto groans. The broomstick hit him in the head, but otherwise he looks ok. Tsukishima doesn’t look like he’s surprised about his fall, more like he was expecting this to happen eventually.

“Why? You don’t even know if I can ride a broomstick, how can you possibly suggest that?” he continues, not quite as loudly.

Bokuto puckers his lips. “I guess the expensive broomstick in your closet gives you away…and you know… the weekly _Quidditch magazine_ collection you have stored in one of those boxes.”

Tsukishima pauses, remembering that Bokuto had one through all his belongings.

“So like, I guessed you’re a die-hard fan of Quidditch right? And you’re tall too, we need new keepers you know, and having so expensive equipment is a shame if you won’t use it-”

Feeling the shame weld up in his chest, Tsukishima looks down. Truly, having that expensive broomstick was a shame when it was to be used by someone like him. He’s sure Bokuto would never have suggested a thing like this if he had known what Tsukishima had done before. Even _considering_ cheating was poor manner, especially from a Gryffindor. There is no doubt that he’s not made to play with the good guys. Maybe if some slouchy team wanted to have him he would have consider it, because then he wouldn’t be the only nasty person on the team; but Tsukishima was being asked by his idol, a true, wholeheartedly honest person, from a prestigious team that frowned upon cheating as if it was a pest. How could he possibly be worthy of getting this offer from Bokuto Kotarou himself? He’s about to refuse the offer, but Bokuto is quick to get up on his feet, and he grasps his wrist with a strong hold.

“Come with me, I’ll show you the equipment shed and the lockers- oh and you can watch us practice, Tetsuro is out there right now, he’s a cool guy!”  Bokuto says excitedly. Once again, Tsukishima’s protests are outdone by Bokuto’s loudness.

 

* * *

 

Shortly after, Tsukishima finds himself gazing out over the Quidditch pitch. The hoops look worn and rusty in compared to what Tsukishima is used to, probably because of the salt that blows in from the sea. The winds are, if anything, almost ten times stronger out at this hill in compared to the grassy one they were just at. In addition, the hill they’re on ends with a cliff that dives right down into fuming waves and sharp rocks. Getting carried away by the winds here would almost be more dangerous than if you were far out on the sea.

He throws a glance up to one of the tall hoops that Kuroo is guarding, doubtful. It feels a bit nostalgic to see Kuroo’s cloak rustling in the wind again, although, Tsukishima feels nervous. The loud winds are picking up. They howl against the hoops and the poles, almost so loudly Tsukishima is afraid one of them will break off and hit him. It feels almost ominous.

Bokuto slaps his back, almost forcing all air out of his lungs. “It’s a bit windy, but don’t worry none of us will blow away! Just look!” Bokuto points upwards, grinning proudly. Tsukishima follows his moving finger, wanting to be convinced. He notes that there is no doubt maintaining control of the broomstick would be difficult. However, Kuroo remains steady, just in the same manner as Bokuto, and has no trouble kicking away the quaffle that comes after him. Tsukishima sights. Maybe the risks were only significant to small fry like him. Bokuto hollers and Tsukishima evaluates sticking his fingers into his ears for a brief moment.

“That’s our captain!” he cheers.

Tsukishima only nods, reluctant to show further emotions in fear of receiving yet another cheerful pat on the back. Bokuto then points to the equipment shed, telling him that’s where he first met Kuroo. He then tells about how it was a funny story he would love to tell him some day and almost can’t continue talking because it is such a funny story to him that he isn’t able to tell Tsukishima about in detail.

Kuroo peeks down, unable to oversee Bokuto’s loud voice. “OH YOU FINALLY SHOWED UP FOR PRACTICE!?” he starts.

Bokuto wipes a tear away, but his voice remains giddy. “Yeah man sorry, I was a little late!”

“A little!?” Kuroo repeats.

Tsukishima sighs, and then feels a pang of anxiety. He’s well aware that technically, Bokuto is twenty minutes late just because of _him_. He’s still not entirely sure what Kuroo thinks of him- what if stealing away a team member makes him think badly of him and he never wants to speak to him again?  There’s a lot of possibilities, and they all have the same shady results. Tsukishima steps back, timid as ever, and looks down. Maybe Kuroo won’t notice him if he just makes himself invisible. 

Kuroo calls for a break, and the other team members fly down slowly to talk with each other by the equipment shed. Kuroo dives down to Bokuto, and jumps off his broomstick.

“Really, why are you so late, Kou?” Kuroo asks, concern showing on his face. “Did you get nervous again? You did your rehearsals right? You know we won’t mock you for them-”

“What no- no!” Bokuto stops him, flustered. He doesn’t want to look uncool in front of his underclassman, and pushes his hands in Kuroo’s face to muffle him. “I know you won’t!” he whispers loudly, dragging Kuroo to the side, side-eying Tsukishima not so discretely. Tsukishima frowns, suddenly feeling like he’s observing two schoolgirls talking about something top secret.

 “I just had a chat with Kei,” Bokuto affirms.

“Mfhhhf?” Kuroo lifts an eyebrow, confused.

“What?” Bokuto blinks. Kuroo shoves his hands away. “What did you talk about then? It must be important if you took time off from practice to talk” he says, irked.

“Yeah dude, you know that class I was failing?”

“Yeah?” Kuroo fails to see the relevancy of the question.

“I’m not failing anymore!” Bokuto grins. Kuroo blinks slowly, before a prideful expression replaces his annoyed one. If Bokuto isn’t failing, then it means he’s no longer in danger of being replaced on the team. However, he’s not so sure about the method Bokuto has used, he isn’t the brightest one, and getting him up from a zero to a passing grade would be almost impossible if he did it on his own.

 “That’s great news Kou! But how?”

“Kei is like a wizard! Tetsu, he did all sorts of amazing things in class! He got a score of 100 in just one period!” 

“We’re all wizards Kou-” Kuroo starts, suspicious of what Tsukishima has done. A score of 100 in just one period is too good to be natural. It just doesn’t happen. He peeks over at him, and looks away quickly when Tsukishima looks back at him.

“And he like, helped me up to a score of 21!” Bokuto explains, his eyes sparkling with admiration and pride. His cheeks warm up and he can’t seem to be able to stand still. “I want to train him Tetsuro, I want to repay him!” he states.

Kuroo falls silent, stunned. Behind them, Tsukishima sits down, looking out at the quidditch pitch with a bothered expression. Whatever it is Bokuto and Kuroo are talking about, he doesn’t have the right to listen. He’s roughly aware that they throw glances at him sometimes too. He doesn’t know if he really _wants_ to know what they’re talking about.

Kuroo looks at him again, examining the blond. He takes notice of his hands that are fidgeting in his lap. He looks back at Bokuto, who looks at him expectantly.

“In fact I-”

“You have to let me!” Bokuto insists.

“Let me finish!” Kuroo complains. Bokuto jolts, and nods quickly.

“In fact I have already been thinking about bringing him here. If you want to train him you can do so, but I want in on it too. It’s not often a tall kid like him comes along. If he get’s the right training he could possibly be my stand-in.” Kuroo goes on. “I don’t want to give him special treatment though, so I’ll have him do the same standard test like all our 5’Th year newbies take. I’ll let him take the test after dinner today.”

Bokuto beams, nodding eagerly.

“If he doesn’t cut it though, I won’t let you train him. We don’t have time to waste on talentless 5’Th years, you understand?”  While looking at him with stern eyes, Kuroo hopes that Bokuto won’t start fussing or getting dejected as he usually does if he doesn’t get his will. It is only a matter of _if_ , so he’s not directly rejecting Bokuto’s will either. He should be able to understand that.

Bokuto puckers his lips though, and huffs. “He’ll make it!” he exclaims stubbornly. He knows there’s no way a talentless guy would have expensive equipment like that, and certainly not so many magazines about techniques and formations. He doesn’t mention it to Kuroo though; he wants to have the credit for Tsukishima’s development and future position on the team for himself. As he had said, it was an eye for an eye. If Tsukishima had helped him with one thing and taken all the credit, he’d help Tsukishima and take all the credit for that. He wanted to impress him, after all. No way would he let Kuroo hog even the slightest bit of the glory.

“We’ll see about that” Kuroo sighs, eyeing Tsukishima. He can’t help but feel dubious about him. Sure, he had expressed his interest in him last night to Bokuto and Akaashi- but now he’d realized that something was obviously fishy. If a fan-boy wanted it enough, he could have possibly charmed Bokuto into doing everything he asked him to do. Bokuto was an easy target, no doubt, and Tsukishima was a fan, no doubt. 

While Bokuto walks over to Tsukishima again to hoist him up on his feet, Kuroo takes out his wand from the inside of his cloak. He just wants to be sure. Tsukishima just looks like an insecure, honest guy with a bit too much pride, but he can’t be too careful when it comes to Bokuto.  His wand, warm from his body heat, cools in his hand as he searches for the moment Bokuto isn’t in front of Tsukishima.

Tsukishima notices an indescribable intent directed towards him before Kuroo has done anything that could look suspicious. Naturally, Tsukishima calls up his wand to his hand without uttering a word, unaware of where the intent comes from. It makes his fingers prickle, and his wand buzzes. Bokuto babbles about practice and meat as he steps forwards, but Tsukishima doesn’t listen. He catches a glimpse of Kuroo’s out-stretched arm when Bokuto stretches out into a yawn, and feels a rush of adrenaline when Kuroo throws a charm. It startles Tsukishima, since Bokuto moved in front of him, and he reacts with casting the protego charm. The quickly cast charm bounces Kuroo’s charm away, startling Bokuto. It startles Kuroo too, but for other reasons.

Tsukishima, which is sure the charm was aimed at him, frowns. At the same time, kuroo who had aimed his legilimency charm at Bokuto frowns too.

“What the hell!?” Bokuto squeals, covering his head.

“What are you protecting, Tsukishima?” Kuroo inquires, keeping his wand ready. If Tsukishima protected Bokuto, it would mean he didn’t want anyone to be able to see into Bokuto’s mind. Perhaps Tsukishima had brainwashed him somehow. His doubts grow larger.

“Why are you suddenly throwing charms?” Tsukishima asks, equally suspicious and startled. What had the two of them talked about? What had he done to be aimed at so suddenly like this? He knew he wasn’t easily trusted because of his personality and his looks, but this was taking it to a completely new level. He had thought Kuroo was a caring and an ok guy deep down, but... maybe nice guys knew to locate unworthy scum when they saw it.

“You’ve done something haven’t you?” Kuroo accuses.

Tsukishima blinks and clenches his wand. He’s confused at first; had they already figured him out?

“You looked so insecure earlier, you look insecure now-” Kuroo starts. He feels awful about discovering that Tsukishima could have actually done something to Bokuto, and he becomes more on edge because of it. It’s not every day he decides someone is a danger to his friend, he doesn’t exactly know how to handle it.

At the accusation, Tsukishima remembers an incident during 3’rd year. A group of kids had sought him out, and what happened afterwards makes him frown at the memory. He had thought they wanted to beat him up or lynch him, as they always wanted. However, this time they wanted him on their team, and Tsukishima had been so happy he had felt like crying. Of course, he hadn’t, but when he went home that night, he could not sleep from being so giddy. 

The next day when he brought his broomstick to the local quidditch pitch, the kids stopped him from going out on the field. _“What are you doing?”_ they had asked. Tsukishima didn’t understand. Hadn’t they invited him to play with them?

_“Did you think we would let you play with us just like that? You need to do some things first,”_ they had said, smirks covering their faces. _“Fix the other team’s brooms so they break when we play.”_ One of the kids said. Tsukishima felt the dread engulf him. They just wanted him to cheat for them…

_“They’ll never suspect the rich kid,”_ a 4’Th year said.

_“You’re just a rich kid and no one likes you,”_ the same 4’Th year student had said when Tsukishima had _failed._

“What are you talking about Tetsu?” Bokuto interrupts Tsukishima’s thoughts, although his words are directed at Kuroo. “Why did you do that?! Have you gone mental? You could have hit Tsukki!” Bokuto doesn’t understand why Kuroo is doing this. In fact, he’s entirely sure Tsukishima hasn’t done anything wrong. His instinct tells him so. Tsukishima had helped him even if it looked like he was considering escaping the classroom when he had sat down in front of him, but he hadn’t- which Bokuto was deeply grateful for! Hootini’s instincts tells him so too! His owl never listened to anyone unworthy of being trusted, and last night Hootini had listened to Tsukishima.

“Kou I just want to protect you. He’s acting weirdly. He did something!” Kuroo points his wand at Tsukishima, hesitant to throw yet another charm. 

“He didn’t-” Bokuto begins, but Tsukishima klicks his tongue, stopping him as he speaks up. “I did… Though, you could have hit Bokuto if you were careless with that charm.”

“Kei? What?” Bokuto utters, confused.

While gripping his wand tightly, Kuroo grits his teeth. He’s about to raise his wand at him, but then something boggles his mind. Tsukishima said he could have hit Bokuto if he was careless, wouldn’t that mean that Tsukishima had thought the charm had been cast at him? In that case, protecting oneself was natural… but what had Tsukishima done? What could make him want to admit it in this kind of situation? Bokuto looks equally confused, but also nervous. He approaches Kuroo slowly, easing the wand out of his hand when he gets that far. Kuroo is reluctant to letting go of his wand at first, but he gives in, as Bokuto looks shaken. Meanwhile, Tsukishima puts his wand back inside his boot, keeping his eyes on them. He doesn’t want a fight, he just wants to run away and forget.

“What’s going on here?” Akaashi asks, concern showing on his face. He had seen spells get cast and had rushed over just in case Bokuto and Kuroo had started arguing about something insignificant again, but as he approached; the situation had looked to be more than just that. On one side stands Bokuto, easing Kuroo and taking his wand away carefully, and on the other side stands Tsukishima, defensive and cornered.

He knows Kuroo rarely lashes out on someone in this way, and he thought Tsukishima was collected and calm. This doesn’t look like either one of them. Not even Bokuto acts like his usual self.

“I thought he had brainwashed Bokuto to get on the team-  I thought there’s no way he scored a 100 points in PEOM class, so he must have done something to make Bokuto think he was great or something-” Kuroo mutters, glaring at Tsukishima. Akaashi looks impressed by the information, and at first, he thinks Kuroo is acting stupidly. Of course, someone as intelligent-looking as Tsukishima could score that high, but when he looks over at Bokuto he can’t help feeling doubtful of Tsukishima too. Bokuto is an easy target. 

After hearing those words, Tsukishima doubles over. “Hah!?” he catches their attention, and Kuroo’s stare falters, being replaced by surprise.

“I helped him in PEOM class and he just decided on his own that he would train me! I’m afraid to even touch a broomstick- how the fuck could you think I had brainwashed him to get onto the team?” it comes out sounding like a mix of surprise and anger. “I thought you knew about my fucking past, Kuroo. I thought you wanted to punish me or something, but you’re just accusing me of brainwashing Bokuto?” he laughs sorely. It catches Kuroo’s attention, and shame welds up in his chest. Tsukishima’s cloak isn’t turning white. He has fucked up hasn’t he?

“I’m not that pathetic. Getting told to cheat and ending up getting caught is one thing, but committing a real crime!?” Tsukishima turns his back to them. “I’d rather kill myself instead of hurting someone I respect that greatly.” His voice doesn’t falter, but his angry expression does. He walks back to the pagoda hastily, ignoring the three as they gape at him. He wants to cry so badly, but he’s told himself not to cry so many times before that he wills himself not to do it this time either.

In the back of his mind, he’s telling himself it was only a matter of time before he was accused of something like this. He looks sly right? He’s too arrogant and an untrustworthy person, right? He knows. He knows he’s the worst. This is the reason why people hate him. Why they detest him. No way someone can achieve what he has without doing dirty tricks behind everyone’s backs, right? His chest tightens as he finds his way up to the pagoda. He evaluates going inside and up to his room, but he reminds himself that Bokuto shares the room with him. After something like this Bokuto would probably hate him for going there.

He looks over to the cherry-tree forest, observing two students passing by it. It might not be such a bad idea to go there. If people were afraid of it, no one would come looking for him and he could cry in peace, and collect his thoughts.

He walks there determined, aware that no one is following him. Perhaps it was too naive of him to expect that in the first place. Most likely, no one would come looking for him even if the forest wasn’t haunted. The pain in his chest grows as he walks past the first big, crooked cherry trees. There’s a path there, he can tell, however it’s blurry from the tears in his eyes. After a while of walking, he sits down onto what looks like a stone bench. It has some green moss on the edges, and the back is broken halfway. He sits there for a good couple of minutes, simply staring at his feet as the tears run slowly down his cheeks. It’s not as if he’s crying uncontrollably, he’s not even sniffling. They just run down slowly as he sits there in silence.

The winds from the hills are significantly less strong here; however, they rustle the tops of the trees enough to shake off some of the petals from the flowers. As Tsukishima cries, he can’t find it in himself to even think the forest is haunted. It’s too beautiful to be described. He finally feels himself break up more, and he wishes his first day hadn’t gone like this.

Whilst Tsukishima sits there, Bokuto tries to explain how Tsukishima had helped him. He brings up the expensive equipment, the magazines, and even brings up the incident with Hootini.

“He’s innocent!” He declares. Kuroo, who seriously regrets his moves, doesn’t oppose him. He thinks Tsukishima is innocent too; or at least not guilty of what he had thoughtlessly accused him of. He regrets it so badly, and he is concerned about the way this might make Tsukishima think of him. This wasn’t what he had wanted. He was just… too protective of Bokuto.

Akaashi sighs, having grasped the situation more now as Bokuto had explained it. He had thought about following Tsukishima, but he’d thought it was best to give him some room too. Anyone would feel hurt after being accused of brainwashing a person. However, he thought that maybe it would be ok to go after him now, as there had gone a few minutes. He looks at Kuroo sternly. If anything, Kuroo owns Tsukishima a big apology.

They make their way up to Bokuto’s room, thinking Tsukishima has gone there. Kuroo fidgets as Akaashi knocks the door. “Tsukishima? You ok?” he asks. Some seconds pass, and there is no reply. Akashi knocks again, but another couple of seconds passes and he can’t hear even a hint of a sound. Bokuto opens the door, but the only pair of eyes he can see in the room is Hootini’s big and round ones.  Akaashi and Kuroo both peek inside, and then turn around, about to walk away when Bokuto gets down on the floor. They both blink.

“What are you doing?”

 “I’m going to check under the beds!” he says. He then pauses and sticks his head under the bed. “Kei?” he calls.

“What is he, a cat?” Akaashi rolls his eyes. “As if a 190 cm tall guy could fit under your messy bed.”

“Ah-” Bokuto drawls, shoving away some pillows and boxes. “He’s a master at those closet spells, I bet he could shrink himself too if he wanted- Tsukishimaaaaaaaaaa!? KEI!?” he calls. Hootini hoots, annoyed.

Kuroo stands silent, thinking Bokuto is just behaving like an idiot at first- until he starts thinking about how Tsukishima had scored so well in a highly advanced class. He gets down on his knees too, and looks under Tsukishima’s bed.

“Tsukishima?” He calls softly, almost as if calling for a cat. Akaashi groans.

“Obviously he’s not here- come on, let’s go look for him elsewhere”

Bokuto huffs, and pushes another box aside, only to see a sheet of paper that he’s fairly sure he has never seen underneath his bed before. He pulls it out and looks at it. He doesn’t understand what the text says at first, but he can tell it is a registration paper or some kind of important document. It’s first when he is able to decipher the messy font that he vaguely gets an idea of what it is. The seal of a crow on the bottom of the paper supports his suspicions. Kuroo and Akaashi are both ready to leave when they see Bokuto jump up, looking bewildered.

“Guys look!” He holds the sheet of paper in his hand and waves it around. “I know why Hootini likes him now!” He only earns himself two dubious looks.

Akaashi and Kuroo both glance at each other, shrugging him off. “Bokuto, just quiet down and come with us.”

“But- but-” Bokuto earns himself yet another glance. “Come on.” Akaashi groans.

Bokuto whines, but Akaashi merely shrugs him off. Their first task is to find Tsukishima, anything besides that is irrelevant to them. Whatever the paper Bokuto is holding is, it is probably something stupid. He sighs and leads Kuroo out, supporting his friend.

Behind them, Bokuto makes an offended expression. He straightens up and huffs. This was important! At least to Bokuto it seemed like it was important…Oh well. If they didn’t want to see it then he wouldn’t tell them about it, he figures, and folds the paper before putting it into his pocket. He then follows the other two out the door. On the way down the stairs, Bokuto peeks out of the windows he passes. They have a missing friend to find, but as he sees a murder of crows fly past the cherry tree forest, he ponders that finding Tsukishima could be just as difficult as catching a crow.

“It can’t be that hard can it be to find him, right?” Kuroo asks himself, worry showing on his face. “You don’t think he just flew off to the sea?” his voice quivers. Putting a hand on Kuroo’s back, Akaashi shakes his head. “Don’t be stupid. He’s not a broomstick or a bird.”

Bokuto huffs. Oh, they should have just known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took so long to write this. I had a bad case of mononucleosis and I couldn't really do anything at all for months. I'm still not feeling well, but the comments that keep coming in keeps me motivated ^D^  
> A note about the next chapter: it will be lit :D
> 
> Please tell me what you think, as I look forwards to reading the comments. ^-^

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys like it, and I love comments!


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